


SECRET OATH

by jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle



Series: SECRET OATH [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Angst, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys' Love, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Dream Sex, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, POV Third Person, Wet Dream, dicks touching, mama hanji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-01-14 03:04:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 56,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1250371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle/pseuds/jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i></i><br/><b>Tonight I made a secret oath, to keep chasing after you...</b><br/> </p><p>Jean has spent the last four years hiding his sexuality; after what happened to Marco he swore he'd never tell. Now a chance meeting with a certain brilliant blond has put him in the position of keeping his feelings hidden once again. Will this time be any different? Can he risk that it won't?<br/> </p><p>  <i>Its not right... After all I went through to get away from this back home, after all the trouble I caused... and now i'm doing it again? its not right for me to think of him that way. to put that pressure on him even in my head. to imagine doing that to him. it doesn't matter how i feel, i won't let you get hurt because of it, even if it means our status will remain as friends.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. WE CHAINED OUR HEARTS IN VAIN

**Author's Note:**

> so i made a [playlist](http://8tracks.com/jeanhuhkirschnickerdoo/secret-oats?utm_campaign=tumblr_button) for the fic, songs may be added
> 
> and just wanted to share [this beauty](http://dorky-eren.tumblr.com/post/90976814031/its-kind-of-shitty-and-uncreative-but-i-thought) that humantysotp did for me!!

"Fuck…" Jean's eyes lifted as he took in the entirety of Maria-Rose University. It had an old feel to it, large spiked spires decorating the top, even a central bell tower. It was… huge. Not even a normal huge, but a was-this-really-fucking-necessary kind of huge.

"Catch!"

Jean turned his attention just in time to open his arms for his huge-ass duffle bag, overstuffed and seams threatening to burst as it impacted his chest and pushed the air from his lungs, forcing him to stumble backwards. "Oh wow thanks for the warning, freckles." He grinned up at his best friend as he pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He was giving him a mock glare, the same he always got when he called him that. Marco had hated Jean's nickname for him for as long as he could remember. But hell, he loved the raven's freckles, and his sweet chocolate eyes, and the way that he wasn't always as sweet as everyone thought he was, and that the freckles didn't stop at his face; or the way that when he smiled at him, his smile went all the way to his eyes.

"What, it's not like I ripped those awful things from your face."

Jean made an undignified face, running his fingers back through the lengths of his undercut. Marco had kept to himself about the stud that graced the left side of his lower lip; however he wasn't quite so quiet about it when he came back with two more barbells in his right brow, or the couple of cartilage and industrial piercings in his left ear. But he hadn't expected much different, fuck look at Marco in his polo and khakis, not exactly the type to have piercings.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks for not making me a bloody mess on our first day of uni. How can I ever repay your kindness."

"Pizza and a movie will work."

Jean rolled his golden eyes and shut the trunk of the taxi while Marco gathered the last of his luggage and paid the driver, leaving the brunet cringing at just how much it had cost. "Sure, as long as you're paying for it. Not all of us have rich ass parents you know."

It didn't take as long as Jean had expected to go through orientation and get the "terms and conditions" for selling their souls, sleep schedules, and sanity to the university and get their room and board information. Eventually they were all set loose, Jean taking his time as the more enthusiastic students pushed their way from the large auditorium and headed off to their respected dorms. Eventually he followed.

"Hey, what dorm?"

His eyes drifted to the paper they gave him, as if he really needed to confirm it before he answered the raven. "Sina. You?"

"Same!" The two traveled mostly in silence toward the dorm, except for the little comments about this or that, until Marco stopped, gesturing toward a hallway. "This is me." He pointed at the third door on the left, near the entrance and communal showers. He paused, almost solemnly and turned back toward Jean. "What about you?"

"Next floor." He jabbed his finger toward the ceiling. "Guess we won't see each other as much anymore." He shifted awkwardly, it's not like they were dating or anything, fuck.

"Hey, we still have a couple classes, not like we're apart forever." Before things could get any more awkward, a well-built blond who undeniably resembled a lion opened the door and clapped Marco hard on the shoulder. Reiner, his new roommate, presumably. After he shot Jean and Marco a knowing look that made the situation even more awkward, the brunet quickly excused himself to the second floor of the dorms.

He muttered to himself as he pushed through people, glancing up at the room doors until he found the one he was looking for. He pulled out his phone and took a quick shot of the door; he'd upload it to tumblr later, sure everyone else would get just as much of a kick out of 221B as he did. He rapped his knuckles against the door before pushing into the room.

Half the dorm was already "decorated", as in his dormmate had made his bed, before tossing his shit wherever the fuck it wanted to go. He tried not to roll his eyes as he moved to the spare bed, the frame looking beat up and the dip in center meant his douchebag of a roommate had taken the nicer of the two. Sighing, Jean pulled out his black sheets and began tucking the mattress sheet in, not pausing as he heard a shift on the bed behind him.

"What's your name?"

Even such a simple question upset him and tempted him to pretend he didn't hear the kid with the dark brown mess of hair; had he had his earbuds in, he would have.

"Jean Kirschtein." He tugged out the sheet and began to unfurl it. "You?"

"Eren Jaeger. Isn't Jean a chick's name? What the fuck kind of name is Kirschtein, anyway? Seriously."

"It's German."

"No, Jaeger is German."

He paused midway through tucking in the top sheet, turning his eyes to meet surprisingly beautiful Caribbean green ones. "Yes, because clearly Jaeger is the only name in all of Germany."

"Wow, you really are a dick aren't you?"

"And you're really a douchebag." Jean turned back to finish tucking in his sheet before throwing his already-cased pillows at the top of the bed. Before either of them could say anything else, there was a knock on their door.

"Eren?"

_A chick?! No way this douchebag actually has a girlfriend._

Jean watched as Eren huffed and went to open the door, and, fuck, was he surprised. Looking around the brunet, he noticed a female a bit shorter than himself, fair skinned, dark eyes, and long, black hair. He couldn't deny the feeling in his core, or the way just looking at her made him forget what he was doing. It was when she turned to him that he realized he was staring.

"Oh, uh, this is Jean." Eren vaguely gestured toward him, clearly disapprovingly before gesturing back at the woman. "Mikasa, my sister."

He stood up straight, knowing he was probably visibly flustered. "I – I like your hair." Now he knew for a fact his cheeks were red.

"Thanks." Her voice was soft as she pulled her red scarf up over his lips.

Jean muttered something unintelligible before grabbing his messenger bag from the foot of his bed, squeezing around the two of them and out the door. _Wow way to fucking go Jean. Real fucking smooth. I'm sure she really wants you know. Fuck. Fucking fuck._ He wasn't sure if he was making faces, or maybe not all of his thoughts were staying in his head, but he was sure as fuck getting looks from passersby.

He crossed his arms over his chest, finding it colder outside than he remembered; of course he had forgotten his jacket. Luckily his mumbling embarrassment had led him to the on-campus café, signs boasting of serving breakfast 'round the clock. The warm light and smell of coffee lured him in, as if the smell of food that doesn't come from a paper bag didn't do the trick. Pushing the doors open, he made his way to the far back corner of the café.

Almost as soon as he sat down, a brunette with her hair pulled back and a baby-poop-yellow apron around her waist bounced over to him. Her nametag said "Sasha" and he was pretty sure he had seen her cut out of orientation early. She shifted a hard candy, from the wrapper Jean would guess a werther's, to the side of her mouth and pulled out a pen and pad of paper.

"What can I getcha, babe?"

 _Babe?_ "Uh… are the chicken strips any good here?"

Her cheeks flushed and he swore she looked like she wanted to pounce him.

"Meat…"

Or maybe it wasn't him that had gotten her excited. "Ookay… I'll take that as a yes. Can I get an order of chicken strips and mashed potatoes? No gravy. And uh, mountain dew." He smiled as she bounced way, shifting his bag to the side to pull out a sketch pad, a 6H pencil, and a black eraser. He opened to the next blank page, beginning to sketch one of his favorite anime characters dressed like a character from a different universe. He had gotten so submersed in his drawing, he hadn't realized how much time had passed when someone approached his table.

"Chicken strips and dew?" Jean looked up to see a… rather short man, about his age, his black hair buzzed. 'Connie', or so said his tag.

"Yeah, sorry." Jean muttered, moving his stuff to the side so he could set the plate down. He noticed how his brown eyes danced over the paper and then to the busy dining room, as if debating whether to talk about what he had drawn.

"Connie, order's up!" It seemed his mind was made for him, as he nodded and turned reluctantly to serve the next person.

Jean smiled to himself, a fellow fan then? He grabbed one of the chicken strips and wasted no time dipping it into the mashed potatoes, opening his mouth to breathe frantically as soon as he bit off a chunk. At least it was fresh, and fuck did it taste good. Delicious and juicy as it was, it didn't stop him from noticing when Eren mcdouchebag Jaeger and his fucking hot sister came into the café. They didn't notice him, going over to sit with a blond, who he could only see the back of their head.

His new found lack of appetite didn't stop him from finishing his food and setting out enough money to pay for his meal with a five dollar tip before packing up his shit and getting the hell out of there.

* * *

The next few weeks went more or less the same. Classes, come back to the dorm. Apparently, Eren was almost always there. When he didn't say something to piss Jean off, just the fact of how close he and Mikasa were was enough to push him over the edge. And so he'd go across campus to the café, get some dinner and hide away in the most secluded booth he could. Not that it mattered, considering the staff could be just as noisy even in a relatively empty café. Sasha and Connie enjoyed their jokes and their laughs, and it hadn't taken long for them to go from 'best spuds' to 'best spuds+'.

Jean didn't mind, they were fun, he got along with them pretty well actually. But being an art major, lacking a place of quiet, regardless that he usually had headphones blasting heavy rock into his ears, was kind of a big fucking deal. And most nights he couldn't even find solitude in the Outside The Walls café, since Marco had made friends with his roommate Reiner, who was apparently friends with everyone. Including mcdouchebag. So his nights were spent talking with people who, admittedly, he called friends, and usually ended up in an argument and then some between him and Eren.

So, he found himself in his shitty-ass dorm room on his broken down bed, hoping for some silence. Instead he was just getting frustrated at Eren and Mikasa sitting on his bed watching a movie. Was it normal for siblings to be that close? He thought about going to the café, at least to be away from them, but then he remembered it was the first week of October and things would be getting more and more 'interesting' with Halloween on its way. Which just left him to shift frustratingly, unable to find a comfortable position.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Eren huffed at him as he paused the movie they had been watching, turning his angry green eyes toward him.

"I need some fucking peace and quiet that's what!"

Mikasa pushed herself up to look around Eren, pulling her scarf down to show her pink lips, now displaying a ring through the right side of her bottom lip. It was new. "Why don't you just go to the library?" When Jean and Eren both looked at her quizzically she rolled her eyes. "You pass it every day on the way to the café."

"Wait, that's what that is?" Jean ignored her look that screamed 'dumbass', grabbing his art stuff and heading out the door without much more than a thanks.

Jean made the trip he always made toward the café, slowing as he passed one of the standalone buildings. No wonder he had never realized – they always passed the back of the building. He walked into the library, eyes carelessly taking in the place. It was surprisingly clean and organized, yet had the distinct smell of old pages and warmth. He smirked to himself as he pulled his earbuds out, ears adjusting from the heavy rock to the calming hawaiian sounds floating through the wooden room.

He made his way to the back of the room, to the window that had drawn him here in the first place. Even though he'd been on campus for a month now, he had never stepped foot into the library. But passing that window, he couldn't deny how much more peaceful it looked than the café he normally frequented; Sasha, was just a tad too boisterous for him to focus. He pulled out a sketchbook, pencils, and a black eraser, parking it in the best light and finding himself humming to the music, chewing the stud in his lip as the _scritch_ of the graphite seemed to echo.

He had been there for awhile, noticing the light outside starting to shift from almost white to golden. Yet, he hadn't seen anyone. Hadn't heard much either. Sitting up, he stretched his neck and locked his fingers, lifting his hands above his head and ignoring the familiar crack of his shoulders indicating his stiffness. It was then that he had heard the squeak of cart wheels, and a light humming. Perhaps he was just too submerged in his art to notice anyone around.

The humming cut off, annoying nearby at that, and he heard the voice of a young woman in the quiet room.

"Do you have Pride and Prejudice? I need it for Professor Bossard's class."

"We should have a couple copies," he paused, pointing toward the south of the building, "in that direction."

Jean smiled to himself as he overheard the conversation, returning his attention to his sketchbook. He couldn't stop himself from humming along with the music, singing being one of his other talents. With the sun outside beginning to set, he was slowly losing his light. Sure, the library provided a certain amount, but it wasn't the same. With a huff he shifted, breath puffing his bangs as he almost curled into himself, the pad pressed against his knees and the pencil moving along the page.

It was then that he heard the rather annoying squeak of wheels, stopping next to him. He turned to look up at him, sun caught in his golden hair, drifting just above his shoulders, his bangs covering his forehead and framing his bright blue eyes. Jean couldn't place it but he was agonizingly familiar.

"You're from my advanced calculus and bio-chem classes, right?" He smiled down at Jean, leaning against the cart. His jeans were fitted, original chucks gracing his feet and a plain long sleeved button up. Overall… not exactly impressive. Actually, he was borderline dorky.

 _Well that explains the familiarity._ "Yeah, um," he didn't talk to many new people, learning quickly growing up that people didn't like his honesty. But, it was his library, so… "I'm Jean."

The blond laughed lightly. "I know."

He turned to walk away, and Jean couldn't deny that it frustrated him. Was he blowing him off? "Hey wait! You're not going to tell me your name?"

The blond seemed nervous as he turned around, he had visibly flinched when Jean raised his voice, and he averted his eyes, as if he wasn't used to anyone asking who he was. "O-oh, um, it's Armin."


	2. YOUR LOVE'S A FUCKING DRAG

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mostly memories of jean and marco in high school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to mc_jaeger, who helped me plot the next 5 chapters♥

" _Sick of the tension, sick of the hunger, sick of you acting like I owe you this."_

Jean groaned as the rock-rap-electronic-screaming-what-the-fuck-do-you-call-it sounds of Linkin Park filled his ears, his now-silent ear buds not doing much to muffle the music his roommate was blasting. He rubbed his hand over his tired face, wiping off the drool and lifting his head just enough to look at his phone for the time. Why the fuck was he up at… eleven thirty….

"Hey douchebag," He threw a pillow across the room, not actually looking or caring if it went anywhere near Eren, "How about you shut the fuck up."

"Don't be a bitch; some of us are actually going to class." Eren threw the pillow back, hitting the back of Jean's head. "What were you doing up on your computer until four a.m. anyway?"

Jean groaned as he rolled over, running his fingers back through his head. "I was working on shit for art class." That wasn't a lie, well not completely. He was an art major, and he was working on his art, but for class? No, he was finishing up a piece to put on his tumblr in hopes that his followers would flock to it.

"Yeah, whatever. I don't really care about your porn habits. Unlike you, I have to actually go to class."

"Only 'cause your sister will kick your ass if you don't."

"At least I can fucking talk to her. ' _I like your hair._ '"

Jean's only response was to lift his hand, curling all of his fingers but one. He didn't even look, dropping his hand after he heard the door shut. Sighing, he looked at his phone again. His background was a picture of him and Marco the day they had been accepted into university, or rather the night they had went out to celebrate it. Groaning, he pushed himself up. It was 11:45 a.m., Professor Bossard's English class started at noon. He was awake, might as well fucking go.

He pulled on yesterday's jeans and shirt, it was too early to care about appearance, and grabbed a slice of tepid pizza as he walked out the door and headed toward the class. Jean arrived about fifteen minutes late, just in time to see their teacher, no more than a few years older than himself, bite his tongue. Again.

Trudging to the back of the room, he took a seat not too far from the window. Marco had smiled at him as the brunet moved to sit in the row behind him, the freckled boy quickly turning his attention back to the teacher. At least that's what he told himself, trying to ignore the obvious connection that was forming between the two ravens in front of him. He had been spending more and more time with Mikasa.

Frustration swelled in him, and he sighed heavily, eyes drifting away from the pair and his mind blocking out Bossard's voice. It's not like he wasn't aware this could happen, but still… after everything the two of them had been through in high school, maybe a part of him had been clinging to that small thread of hope.

* * *

Jean couldn't help but sigh as he looked at himself in the dim, flickering light of the boy's bathroom. First week of school and he'd already gotten made fun of for his 'dorky' new haircut. Not like he was the only boy to have an undercut. He had hoped the freshman curse had faded by his second year of high school; turns out everyone just hated everyone. At least he had been lucky enough to have Marco in most of his classes.

The two had been best friends as kids, with his own mother too busy trying to run the bakery and take care of him by herself to really take him to do anything _fun._ Instead, Mrs. Bodt had always been more than happy to have him tag along. The three of them would go to movies and fairs, and the two boys had spent every waking, and not waking, moment they could together. They had been inseparable. And then high school came, and they had been in different annexes of the building, sharing no classes. They tried to spend weekends together when they could, but homework and friends called, and they had naturally grown apart.

"Hey, beauty queen, are you coming?"

Jean turned as Marco peered around the door, grinning mischievously. Before he could retort, the bell rang, signaling lunch had ended. He lightly punched the freckled teen in the arm, grinning right back as they rounded the corner and headed to their classes. Art was the one class that the raven didn't share with him, and even with his talent he always felt an odd sense of insecurity, not knowing anyone.

Even if art was his outlet, the class was still slow and boring as fuck, and right after lunch all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep. He had been spacey all class, and it was only a matter of time before he drifted off. Class was almost over anyway.

"Live drawing." Jean's eyes snapped open as the words left his teachers mouth. "I don't really give a damn where you get your study model from, but it has to be _in person_. I want it on my desk Monday."

One weekend. One weekend to find a model, convince them to let him spend a few hours staring at their body, draw them, and turn in the piece that was expected to be perfection. At least in his mind perfection. The bell rang and he gathered his things. He had planned to spend the weekend at Marco's anyway… he'd model for him right? That's not that weird right? It's for the art.

His thoughts were cut short as the raven hailed him over, waiting for him to catch up as they headed out to the parking lot. Even though Marco was a couple months younger than Jean, he had already gotten his restricted license, and his mom let him borrow her Honda to drive to and from school. Jean always made fun of him for driving such a 'mom' car, which was quickly cut short when he was reminded that at least he had a car to drive.

"Hey, so I gotta work on an art project…"

"You've got a few hours before the movie. That enough?"

Jean shrugged, yeah, five hours was more than enough. If he had a willing study. "Well, see the thing is, it's a live drawing assignment," He never took his eyes from the window. "I, uh, need a shirtless model."

"I'll do it." Without missing a beat, Marco volunteered. Sure, Jean had obviously been getting there, but it was just like him to do something like that.

"Really?"

Marco smirked as he pulled into his driveway. "Yeah, I mean, what's the big deal? Besides, we're both guys. Not like I have anything you haven't seen."

Jean shrugged, grabbing his school bag and overnight bag from the back and climbing out of the car. He looked up at the Bodt's house in a bit of awe; he had forgotten just how 'well off' they really were in the time they'd spent apart. Not that they were pretentious fucks about it; all three of them were as kind as they came.

"You coming?" Marco shook his head softly as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"Hey, wait up!" Jean jogged in after him, finding him in the kitchen, talking to his mom. "Uh, hello Mrs. Bodt."

She smiled softly at him, setting down the journal she had been jotting in; most likely for her upcoming article. She had freckles and soft eyes, Marco looked a lot like her actually. "Jean, I've known you since you were a toddler. I think you're safe to call me Ilse by now." Before Jean could start blushing she grabbed a plate of cookies off the counter and handed them to Marco. He took the entire plate, happily tugging on the brunet's sleeve to encourage him to follow.

"Dude, your mom made fresh cookies just 'cause you came home?" Jean's mouth was full of melted chocolate chips as he set his bags on Marco's bed.

"Nah, it's just 'cause you're here. Something about guests or some shit." Marco shoved a cookie in his mouth and reached his fingers to grasp the back of his shirt collar, tugging the t-shirt over his head. "So, where do you want me?"

Jean tried to ignore the slight flush on his cheeks, why the fuck was he blushing? "Uh, could you take off your pants too – it's just the jeans kinda fuck up the natural flow of the body." He latter half came out rushed, why did he really think he needed to justify it? It was art, right? "Then uh," he looked around, realizing there wasn't much suitable for him to sit on, "Maybe the edge of the desk?"

Jean shoved another cookie in his mouth before digging out his sketchpad, pencils, and eraser, shifting to partially sit on his crossed ankles. Once he got settled, Marco was already in place. A twinge of jealousy shot through the brunet, how the fuck had the freckled teen managed to look like that while he was still this scrawny shit?

"Stop it." He muttered, eyes flickering between Marco and his paper.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Jean paused, giving him the side-eye. "Listen here you shit, you're not going to be able to hold it for as long as it's going to take me to finish this." He tapped his paper for emphasis, grinning, and Marco let out a breathy laugh, his body relaxing and the sculpted muscles becoming less so. Not that he was by any means lacking, football had done him good.

After that the room had remained mostly silent but for the _scritch-scritch_ of graphite on paper, and the almost-too-loud of the local rock station playing on the radio. Hours passed, and he had shifted to almost hovering over his paper, chewing on his lip as he did when he concentrated. And, oh, was he concentrating. It was probably over-the-top, but Jean couldn't stop once he started. He took in every dimple, every curve, every ripple, every freckle, and transferred them onto the paper. He had spent hours staring at that body, and when he declared 'done' with a silver hand and wrist, he had gotten more than a little awe out of the boxered Marco.

As Marco leaned over him to look at the final product, he could feel his body becoming jittery. What the fuck was even going on? He shook his head and pushed himself to his feet, stretching his stiff joints and blaming the sugar for his body's reaction.

"Stop admiring yourself already." Jean chided him, closing the sketchpad and putting it in his bag, pulling out his phone in its stead. "You better get dressed, or we're going to be late for the movie."

Marco rolled his eyes as he tugged his shirt back over his head. "Just the previews. Not like we're going to miss them."

They did, in fact, miss the previews, much to Jean's chagrin. He enjoyed the previews; it was part of the experience. He didn't bitch much as they arrived just in time for their movie with more-than-necessary explosions and why-was-that-even-in-here boob-shots. Not that either complained.

By time they had gotten home, with a paper bag full of greasy food in hand, the Bodts were in bed, and it was nearly midnight. Not a lot of other choices, they ate their heart-attack-in-a-bag in Marco's room and settled on playing video games until they passed out at nearly five in the morning; Marco figured it better to _not_ still be awake when his dad woke up for work.

" _Jean..."_

_Everything was blurry; he blinked furiously as he tried to focus. Eventually, Marco's room came into view._

" _Je-an..."_

 _Vision clearing, Jean finally took in the room. Everything was exactly as it had been, down to the grease-spotted bag crumpled in the corner. Except the TV was on. Why was the TV was on? It was the only thing on, and not even on a channel. It was just static, and yet, everything was silent. Unnaturally silent. Why was it so fucking silent? Even dormant machines made_ some _noise._

" _Don't tell me the TV's more interesting than me, Jean~"_

What? Why was Marco-? _Jean's attention was drawn back to his freckled friend, finding himself unable to look away of the other male. He was, after all, on his knees straddling Jean's thighs, stark-fucking-naked._

" _Well, now that I have your attention, Jean~" Marco chuckled and stared down at him._ Was he always this sexy? Wait… sexy? _Jean watched, unable, and not wanting, to do anything to stop Marco as the raven shifted back, lowering himself over the brunet and grinning as he took the entirety of his more-than-fucking-ready cock into his mouth, heat and pleasure coursing through Jean before—_

Jean's eyes flew open, chest heaving and adrenaline flooding his veins. He rubbed his hands through his hair, eyes squinting at the bright light coming through the window. Slowly rubbing his hands over his face, they trailed down over his body and he couldn't help but cringe at the rather sturdy tent that had become of his underwear. Thinking about anything but sex, or the dream, that he could for the next few minutes, he stared at the ceiling until he felt the blood start to flow into the rest of his body.

He groaned as he rolled over, finally softened enough to lay comfortably on his stomach, more than happy he had opted for the air mattress versus sharing the bed with Marco. _Marco…_ He scanned over the sleeping, drooling figure in the bed next to his and felt a heat come to his cheeks and his stomach churn. And it wasn't just because of the dream either. He sighed, pulling his blanket over his face. He had been trying to deny what he was feeling, but he had known. It wasn't the first time he had felt these feelings, albeit it was the first time for a guy.

"Jean? You awake?" Marco groaned, his voice making Jean tense.

"Apparently." Jean mumbled into his pillow, finally reaching over to his phone and trying to pretend he hadn't had a morning wood just minutes earlier. "Noon-ish." He could hear Marco shifting, and followed suit, looking down at his hands and not really sure how to work around to this subject. "We need to talk." Apparently like that.

Marco nodded, his expression serious and worried. He shifted on his bed to make room for Jean, who climbed up next to him, sitting with his ankles crossed and knees bent. The raven offered him a cookie, which he took, a little laugh escaping his lips.

"So what's going on?" Marco worried the edge of the blanket; he always did that when he was concerned.

"I like you." _Wait, what. What the fuck are you thinking?_

"Uh-huh."

"No, I mean…" Jean grabbed his shirtfront, now happy that Marco actually wore a t-shirt to bed, and leaned close, pressing their lips together only for a few seconds. "I'm in-like with you." Jean's eyes stared into Marco's for just a moment before his cheeks reddened and he looked away. _Are you fucking shitting me? What the fuck are you doing? You can't just_ kiss a guy! _He's probably never gonna talk to you again!_

"Okay."

"Okay?" _Okay? What the fuck does okay mean!?_

Marco shrugged. "Yeah, okay. I mean, I'm flattered and all but," He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "I can't exactly return the feelings. I'm straight. Sorry."

Jean just stared a moment. Was he really apologizing… for being straight? Slowly the brunet nodded, realizing that his best friend was accepting him at face value, for who he was and not for who he wanted to fuck.

"You know, I had no idea you were bi, Jean."

"Neither did I."

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Marco headed to the kitchen to help his mom with lunch and 'slumber party' preparations. Both of them had told her repeatedly that guys don't have slumber parties, they hang out. She would just giggle and ignore them, enjoying teasing them about it. While the freckled duo busied themselves in the kitchen, Jean took a quick shower, heading down to 'help' them by being the taste tester.

The time passed freely, and Jean was more than a little relieved that Marco acted like nothing had ever happened. Not in an I'm-going-to-ignore-your-shitty-ass-feelings-like-a-dick kind of way, but in a who-the-fuck-cares-we're-still-best-friends kind of way. Before he realized it, the other guests were arriving and Jean couldn't help but sink into himself.

These weren't his friends; these were Marco's football buddies. The guys that made fun of Jean or started fights with him because they didn't like the truth, and hey, he was an honest man. They treated him fine when Marco was around, but even so the brunet couldn't find it in him to really join in on their mindless blow-em-up games. Instead, he spent most of the night on Marco's bed drawing, adding a 'yeah' or 'mhm' to the conversation when he was directly acknowledged. Suffice it to say, he was more than glad when they finally decided to head to bed; opting to share with Marco instead of one of the other guys.

He swore he hadn't been asleep for more than a few minutes, even if it was more like a few hours, when he woke up, body stifling hot and a weight on his chest. After a moment he realized Marco had his leg draped over his waist and arm over his chest. He sighed to himself, feeling an aching in his groin that he just _knew_ wasn't going to go away.

_Genius, couldn't fucking rub one out while you were in the shower could you?_

Carefully he pushed Marco's arm from his body, sliding carefully out from under his leg. Slipping out as silently as possible, he closed the door of the neighboring bathroom behind him, flicking on the light. He stared at himself in the mirror, as if trying to steel himself for what he was getting ready to do. Tugging his boxer-briefs down in the front, he pulled his t-shirt's hem to his lips, holding it between his teeth.

Jean was a little surprised to find himself twitching and leaking already, presumably he must've had another dream and not realized it. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he slowly began to stroke it, sliding his thumb over the slit at the top with each stroke. His mind drifted to his dream, remembering the way Marco had hovered over him, the way his muscles had stretched and rippled when he chuckled, the way he had looked down at him like he wanted to _devour_ him.

Breathing slowly became more difficult, his breath pushing out in pants around the cotton of his t-shirt, his saliva soaking into it. He bit his lip through the cotton, conjuring the image of Marco's pink lips wrapping around his cock, his tongue working over it, and the way his eyes looked up at him as he pressed his nose to Jean's torso, sucking him into the back of his throat. With that thought, he was gone. His hips trembled as he thrust into his hand, fingers stroking him through his orgasm, a stifled _Marco~_ pushing its way around the shirt.

Panting heavily, he cleaned himself up, flushing the toilet paper and washing his hands. Quietly, he returned to bed, climbing in and doing his best to make a barrier between him and Marco. He didn't have time to worry about anyone hearing him before he drifted back into the blackness of sleep, body too exhausted for anymore dreams.

The following morning, everyone seemed… odd. Jean couldn't quite place it, but chalked it up to not being 'one of them.' Around noon, the guys went home, and Marco more than happily gave Jean a ride. It's not like they lived more than fifteen minutes apart, anyway.

He let out a deep sigh, changing into clean clothes and relaxing on his bed, looking over his art project. It was nice to be able to relax, not that he wasn't relaxed around Marco; it was the other guys he just couldn't let his guard down around. Maybe they weren't that bad? At least that's what he had begun to believe, until his phone rang. Jean didn't recognize the number.

"Hello?" He sat bolt-upright as Ilse Bodt's voice came through the speaker, her voice tight and fractured with tears. "Mrs. Bodt, slow down I can't—" And then he heard all he needed to. Marco. Hospital. "What hospital?" He was already pulling on his shoes and taking his mom's car, illegally. It was her day off; she'd just have to deal.

No later than a minute after he'd entered the hospital, a tear-blotched Ilse attached herself to him. He couldn't really make out anything she was saying, but her husband assured Jean that Marco would live, despite all her hysterics. When the doctor came out to offer visitation, Mr. Bodt sent him in first, claiming he wanted to calm Ilse down to an intelligible level first.

Jean took a slow, deep breath as he entered the room. It was so…white. Everything was white, the floor was white, the sheets were white, the curtains were white. And it smelled, well, it smelled like hospital. He pulled one of the chairs to the side of Marco's bed, golden eyes slowly taking him in. His arm had a sling around it, not broken then. Lifting the sheet, careful not to wake him, he noted the ace-bandage wrapped around his ribcage. Broken or bruised? But his face… his face was the worst.

His lip was busted, and his jaw bruised. But the rest… his right eye was deep violet, swollen to the point that it didn't even have its normal structure. Jean doubted he would be able to open it, when the drugs wore off enough to wake up. Then again, most of that corner of his face had been covered with white bandage. Stupidly, he pried up the edge and leaned close to look. From above his brow all the way to his cheekbone, a three inch incision was littered with stitches. So it was deep, even with the stitches it still bled. Luckily it had missed his eye, but he'd have a scar for life. Was it a knife? Or did someone just beat him that badly?

"You're not supposed to touch that." The voice startled Jean; it was muffled and slurred with drugs.

"Hey…" Jean's voice was soft as he slowly sat in the chair he had pulled up to the side of the bed. "Are you okay? Who did this?" He couldn't help the urgency in his voice, despite wanting to stay calm for Marco.

An I. hand twitched, trying to reach for the remote. "Help me sit up." Jean grabbed the remote, pushing the button with the up arrow, raising the head of the bed until Marco told him it was okay. "It was one of the guys from the football team, and a couple others…" He shook his head after a moment. "I didn't recognize them. They showed up out of nowhere, after I dropped you off. Mom was inside; I mean I knew the guy so it was okay right? Well… they started pushing me around. Maybe I should've done something, but, I didn't want mom to get hurt right? Then they um… they started calling me a cock sucker and a faggot, telling me I was disgusting. Asking if I um…"

"If you what?" Jean's hands were already clenched painfully tight in his lap.

"If I let you," He muttered the next part, "fuck me. If I liked your cock in my ass…"

"What!? Why would they even—" Jean cut himself off… of course, someone must have heard him the night before.

"I don't know, but… I got really pissed that they were saying shit about you. And then they went from calling me names to… being more physical. One of them busted out every window in mom's Honda." He was borderline rambling at this point; running on adrenaline maybe? Forcing himself through the shock he was feeling. "When I tried to stop them, well they didn't hesitate for a second before attacking me. I don't really remember what happened. I got a few hits in, but… there were too many. I just remember a breath-taking pain in my chest, then one of them grabbed my hair and… well you saw what they did. I think I must've passed out after that. When I woke up I was here, mom was crying over me, then I was out again…"

"And here we are."

"And here we are. Look, Jean, I don't know what's going to happen but… maybe you should keep it to yourself that you're bi," he quickly ran over his own words, "I just mean, I don't want to see you end up like this, too."

Jean reached over, gently squeezing Marco's fingertips. He tried not to let it show, how guilty he felt, how beyond angry he was. _This is… this happened all because of me. All because I couldn't keep my fucking feelings to myself. Never again… I'll never…_

"Don't worry, I won't let anything like this happen again. I'll take care of you, freckles." Jean grinned, trying to seem more confident than he was.

"Freckles?"

* * *

"Freckles~" The voice was Mikasa's, a melodic giggle following on the heels of the word.

Jean smirked, _oh how Marco hates to be called frec—is... is he smiling?_ The frustration that had faded came back tenfold, he could feel the heat in his face and concrete in his intestines as he watched Marco laugh and almost flourish as the nickname came from her pierced lips. Fingers clenching into fists, he grabbed his bag, storming out of the room and not giving a damn if it 'disrupted' class.


	3. I'D RATHER WALK ALONE THAN PLAY A SUPPORTING ROLE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> halloween party, yo. hope you enjoy this kat baby

 “Why are you so fucking noisy?” Jean groaned into his pillow, not even cracking his eyes open as he blindly searched for his phone, eventually unlocking it and checking the time. Okay, well it was after the crack of noon at least.

“Because some of us are not pieces of shit and are actually important at the party tonight.” Jean rolled his eyes at the comment, rolling over and stretching, his feet pushing down the covers and revealing his all but naked body, his boxer briefs covering the goods. “Ugh dude, put some fucking clothes on!”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jean grabbed one of his extra pillows, throwing it in the direction of Eren and his bed.

“Hey, man!” Eren’s voice was urgent. “Watch the goods, you dumb twat!”

Jean groaned, pushing himself into a sitting position, tired eyes trying to focus on what Eren was doing. “What are you doing anyway?”

Eren ignored him, pressing his lips into a tight line, his cheeks slightly puffing and giving away that he was holding his breath as he fiddled with the plastic band of his headphones. He let out his breath with a sound of victory, holding it up to reveal a pair of small sunset horns fastened to it.

“Ah.” Jean rolled his eyes and pushed out of bed as Eren continued to ignore him, pulling a t-shirt on and heading down to the first floor for a shower.

He rubbed his face tiredly, noting the towel folded on the stool that sat between his stall and the next. He sighed as the hot water ran over his body, easing his sleep-stiffened muscles. His thoughts drifted as he worked the shampoo through his hair, not that there was much to work through. Stepping under the stream, he tilted his head down and squeezed his eyes tight, letting the water work the lather out on its own.

 _Halloween party, huh? I hadn’t really thought about going… but if that douchebag is going to be there? And the fucking D.J. – why did they even get him as the D.J.?_ He dared to open his eyes, a little relieved to find that there weren’t even soap remnants circling the drain. _I’ll bet she’ll be there… His sister is usually with him._ Or Marco.

He shook his head at the last thought, ignoring the darker thought that liked to destroy his mood. The water noticeably shifted to tepid, a sigh pushing from his lips as he stepped from under the stream. Quickly, he conditioned his hair and washed his body, rinsing the products down the drain almost as quickly as he applied them. The knob squeaked as he turned it to ‘off’ and he poked his head out around the curtain, remembering the only thing he had grabbed from his room was his shirt.

“Mother fucking cunt of the maker…” His words were answered by a chuckle-borderline-giggle, a fluffy towel held out in front of him. His eyes lifted to see a freckled, well-built body in nothing but a low-hanging towel, holding out a fluffy one. Grinning, Jean took it and wrapped it dangerously low on his own hips. “Marco, why the fuck do you have an extra towel?”

“For dickheads like you?” Marco laughed, holding up his hands in surrender at the glare he received. “Sorry, sorry. I grabbed two on accident, and I recognized your shirt when I got out.” He shrugged as he dropped his towel, pulling on a pair of boxers in its place.

Jean quickly turned his attention away, pretending he hadn’t looked at his ass while he was changing, running his fingers quickly through his hair, pushing it back away from his face. Now if only he could figure out how to magic away the blush on his cheeks. Before Marco could meet him in front of the sinks, he grabbed a what-the-fuck-is-this,-sandpaper?-paper towel, dabbing his face, careful to get the water that liked to hide under his piercings. It wasn’t necessary, but at least he could blame his red cheeks on the rough material.

“So, you going the party tonight?” Marco asked, chipper as usual, as he ran hot water over his tooth brush before shoving it into his mouth.

“Meh, I guess. Not a whole helluva lot to do. Gets me out of tutoring tonight, anyway. Armin already knows I won’t be there.” He shrugged carelessly, leaning his weight back against the counter. “Don’t think I’ll be dressing up though.”

Marco quirked an eyebrow, turning on the water to spit and rinse his brush before putting it away. “Why the fuck not?” He held up a hand to halt his protests. “I know you had to have brought at least one of your damn cosplay things.” This time Jean couldn’t hide his blush, Marco letting out a light-hearted laugh at the reaction. “You forget I’ve known you since you were a toddler.” He gestured with his toothbrush, a smirk on his face. “Just saying that this is the perfect time to dress up like that, and no one will even think twice about it. Everyone’s gonna be dressed up, right?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Jean shrugged, watching as Marco started to dig out his clean clothes from a small bag. “I’ll dig up something. Thanks, man. I’ll see ya tonight!” He grinned, a single wave as he left around the wall to the doorway. _So Marco’s going to be there…_ He tried to shake the thoughts away, he knew better.

“Forget your clothes, Horsestein?”

Jean jumped, turning to see a built blond with sharp eyebrows grinning at him. Reiner. The brunet’s brows furrowed as he glowered at him. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

Reiner let out a loud, hearty laugh; on anyone else it would’ve seemed obnoxious but somehow it fit the lion-man. He clapped a hand on Jean’s shoulder, a little roughly; did he even know his fucking strength? “Sorry, Jean. He’s a little shit, but Eren’s nicknames are catchy.” Reiner’s eyes roamed over him once before looking up and down the hall. “You know the girls are going to start taking their turns cleaning up before the party. Better book it if you don’t want them to see you. Or maybe you _do_ want them to see you.” He let out another laugh before opening the door into the shower, completely ignoring anything Jean could’ve said.

Letting out a sigh, he ran his hands back through his hair once more. Reiner was right, and it was the end of October and cold as fuck. This was definitely _not_ how he wanted to run into Mikasa. So, he did as told and booked it back to his room. He lucked out and didn’t run into anyone but Connie, who seemed to be heading toward Sasha’s room.

Jean slid into the room, quickly glancing Eren still on his bed. Only Eren. He had half thought Mikasa might be here, and for once was glad she wasn’t. The dark-skinned brunet only nodded acknowledgement of his return before turning back to sewing whatever he was sewing. Grabbing a pair of clean underwear, he slid them on under the towel before removing it and ruffling it through his hair to catch the extra moisture.

He could feel the green eyes of his roommate watching him as he dug through the dresser that had been issued to him. He almost cringed as he saw the orange and black pants and jacket. Really it didn’t matter, he knew this was the only full-cosplay he had. At least it would be warm. Shaking them out, cause fuck no would he risk putting on spider-ridden clothes, he tugged the jumpsuit on. He pulled on the red duster jacket before brushing his hair back and tying the black shinobi headband on, ruffling his hair over it.

“Really? Naruto? Fucking nerd.” Eren snorted his comment as he tugged on a black shirt, a grey cancer emblem now sewn onto the chest.

Jean rolled his eyes, looking beyond done with him. “Says the Homestuck.”

* * *

Eight rolled around faster than expected, and Jean found himself leaning against a wall and watching the Sina co-eds start to drift into the party. He had arrived early, with the douchebag, and found Levi standing at the door with the keys. Apparently, he and some of the other professors had decided it better to rent out the Stohess building on campus for them instead of letting them roam the streets being dumb shits. Levi only rolled his eyes when Eren thanked him, Jean wondering why he had that stupid ass grin plastered on his face.

So, they found themselves supplied with, as Levi had called it, shitty-ass beer, and what used to be a sorority house to themselves for the night. Armin had stopped by for a few minutes to say hello to Eren; a small pair of black ceramic horns poked out of his hair, and poking from his shirt was a pair of netted wings, the sheer material draping down to his thighs. A demon was far more befitting the blond than an angel ever could be.

Once more guests had arrived, long after Armin had bid the two of them goodbye, Eren started up the music. The _thum_ of the bass vibrated through his chest, almost too loud to hear the words over. Not that it mattered; no one was _really_ listening to the music. It was just background noise as they sipped at the beer they pretended tasted good, waiting for the buzz to kick in. And apparently it had already kicked in for their oh-so-talented D.J.

“Eyy! M.C. Jaeger here!”

Jean rolled his eyes, blocking out anything else his dumbass roommate said. _Fucking douchebag._ Grinning, he grabbed the large sharpie from next to the refreshments, sneaking over to crouch in front of the D.J. table. He scribbled out ‘Jaeger’, quickly jotting DOUCHEBAG in its place. Sliding away, he grinned at his handiwork. MC DOUCHEBAG seemed much more accurate.

The night started to wind down and he noticed everyone starting to pair off. Hell, many of them were dressed in couples costumes to begin with. Connie was leaning against the wall near him, relaxed in jeans and a jacket. The only thing that really gave him away was the white wig and the headband with the giant mouth on it. That, and that Sasha, who was currently shoving croissants in her face, had on a pleated skirt and long jacket, her hair pulled into pigtails.

He nodded at Reiner as he grabbed two more drinks, one for himself and the other for Bertholdt. Reiner had nothing but jeans and a jean jacket for his costume. Honestly, who would know him if it wasn’t for the ever-nervous Bert standing nearby with the tan trench coat. Even then if you weren’t a fan, you’d probably never guess who they were. Sitting with them were Ymir and Historia.

That pair had actually surprised Jean. It wasn’t that he didn’t think they’d dress up, but he expected the roles to be reversed. Sitting unladylike, voice loud with alcohol, the tan, freckled Ymir wore… not much at all. She had a skin-colored band around her breasts, pearls draped down over them and a skirt that was made of long strips of different shades of gold material draped from her hips, allowing her full movement. Ymir would never have allowed anything to confine her. Historia on the other hand, the short, quiet-spoken girl that had a bite if you said anything bad about Ymir, wore thigh-high boots, leggings, a white button-up, and black corset laced tight up the back; a fake dagger dangling from her hips. At least he presumed it was fake.

Jean shrugged as he took a drink. It could’ve been real, Annie’s was. The tired-of-your-shit-blonde was the one that surprised him most. He expected her to maybe wear a hat at most. Instead she was covered in neck to toe black, knee-high boots on her feet, even gloves. There was a gray bird-like emblem sewed onto her chest, and a silver bird dangled around her neck. She pulled up the hood and mask from time to time, grinning at her master-thief skills and going on about being the best mother fucking nightingale in history. Mina, who wore a long dress in glittering blues, a sheer train trailing behind her, giggled at the blonde’s enthusiasm, fiddling habitually with the braid draped over her shoulder and cursing herself when she would accidentally bump one of the strategically placed snowflakes.

As he looked around, though, he couldn’t find Mikasa. Or Marco, though he’d rather not think about that. More and more lately Marco had not been around, even if they had planned to hang out. Eventually, Connie told him he thought he had seen her heading up to one of the rooms. She never did seem like a socialite, maybe she needed a breather. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. Jean made his way upstairs, turning toward the sound when he heard a board creak.

_This way?_

He stumbled, had he really had that much to drink? Or was it more because of the nervousness that ran through his body. He had caught a glimpse of her earlier; Mikasa had teased up the back of her hair, and gave herself exaggerated winged-liner, but most of all she had a black, fitted long sleeved, full-length dress that had a v-cut neckline that dipped far below her breasts. Finding the door where the noise had come from, he cracked it open.

Apparently, he hadn’t been the only one who had appreciated her take on Elvira. His stomach clenched and threatened to empty its contents as he recognized his best friend, bolts pasted to his neck and eyeliner stitch lines gracing his skin. And in his arms? The goddess of night herself, pressed against him, giggling and called him that ridiculous nickname. He chuckled before he captured her lips again, braving the wrath of Mikasa as he dipped a hand into her dress, squeezing gently. But no wrath came, just a low, whimpering moan.

Jean slapped his hand to his mouth and pulled out of the doorway. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, his world was spinning and threatening to black out on him. It was too much to take, and the beer sure as fuck wasn’t settling well. Pushing to his feet, he forced himself to move as quickly as possible, running back down the stairs and into the main room. Connie hailed him, probably asking if he’d found her. He wished he hadn’t, wished he could unsee what he had seen.

The cold near-winter air hit his face with a sobering bite. The chill may have cleared his mind, but it did little to stabilize it or help him forget. His body was hot, burning, overwhelmed with hurt and secondary anger. Somehow, he found his way to the library. Why was it always the library? _Because everyone else is at that party you twat._

He pushed the door open and found a wave of heat rushing over his face. It was stifling with his already high temperature. He hadn’t taken more than ten steps when a small blond head poked out around a bookshelf, and an immediate wave of relief and regret shot through his body.

“Jean? What are doing here? What about the party?” His smile was gentle, but the worry evident.

“I left.”

“I noticed.”

Jean crossed his arms over his chest; if he wasn’t so pissed he’d probably be happy with how the stance made him look even more like the young sage. He huffed, feeling angry at Armin for some reason, even if he consciously knew the blond had done nothing wrong. He turned on his heels, every intention of leaving.

“It’s nothing.”

“Jean!” The blond’s small hand shot out to grab the taller man’s wrist, concern pooling in his vivid blue eyes. “Hey, I have nowhere to be, and you don’t look quite sober. Why don’t you keep me company instead of wandering around in the cold?” His smile was soft, nothing but good intentions behind it.

Sighing, the brunet slowly nodded, allowing Armin to lead him past the shelves. He led him to the back of the library, to a section Jean had never actually seen. There were a few large couches, a coffee table, and a smooth, white wall that currently had a rather large Tim Curry in drag projecting onto it. A small smile pulled at Jean’s lips as he sat down.

_Rocky Horror, least the kid’s got good taste in movies._

An awkward silence settled over them; Jean wanting to burst at the seams and Armin wanting to pry but not wanting to invade at the same time. The brunet let out a sigh as a warm mug was pushed into his hands; hot chocolate, complete with mini-marshmallows and whipped cream. The warmth seeped through the ceramic and into his palms, the smell smooth and sweet. It was calming.

“It’s stupid, really…” Jean’s voice was quiet, even. He had always been that way; if his voice was perfectly calm, better run. “I just… I don’t know… I’ve always liked him, y’know? Hell… I thought maybe I had loved him. But I knew better than to let on about it, after what happened in high school.” He sipped the melted joy from the surface of his drink.

“What happened?” Armin’s voice was calm, and his expression remained so as Jean explained.

“Even if that hadn’t happened… even if not a hair on his head had been hurt, dude’s straight. He’s still my best friend, but straight doesn’t just…” He sighed heavily, running his palm over his mouth. “Why did it have to be _her_?” His voice was almost a whisper, and a small laugh pushed from his lips. Jean set the almost untouched cup on the table before shifting to lean against the arm of the couch, shoulder pressed into the back, his knees pulled to his chest.

“You know, he always complained about these in high school?” Jean tapped the stud in his lip before crossing his arms tight over his chest. The anger was fading, the hurt resurfacing, and the cold biting inside his chest. “And, fuck, the way he’d get pissed when I’d call him freckles? It was just a tease in the beginning, but I couldn’t help keeping it up after it got such a rise from him, y’know? But still, I always knew he hated it…”

Jean’s eyes drifted back into his memories, and he bit his lip. As if the physical pain would stop the hand that was clenching his heart. A soft hand landed on his knee, an encouraging, soft face peering at him. “She calls him that... She giggles and calls him freckles and he… he fucking glows like her words are the fucking fountain of youth or she’s spewing myrrh at him or some shit. He didn’t even…” He swallowed hard around his words.

“He didn’t even tell me. Maybe that’s…” _Maybe that’s the worst part, that my_ best friend _didn’t bother to tell me that he was dating Mikasa._ Neither of them was that laid back about intimacy to be getting to second base in a sorority house with someone they weren’t dating while their friends got drunk a floor below. Jean could feel the anger completely slipping from him, leaving nothing but fatigue gnawing at his mind and unshed tears burning at his eyes. “My best friend… and the girl I liked….” Jean felt himself drift, unable to understand the look in the blue eyes that were watching him before sleep took him.

Armin quietly stole into the back room of the library, bringing out a large pillow to put behind Jean’s head, draping a comforter over his body, making sure it covered his toes and shoulders. Gently, he brushed his fingers through Jean’s hair, still stuck up from being wet when he had put on the headband. He bit his lip as he looked down at the sleeping figure, his brows furrowing in what Armin hoped wasn’t too unrestful sleep. A soft sigh pushed from his lips as he ensured the blanket was in place once more before settling into one of the other couches, wrapping a blanket around himself and curling inside it.

 _Jean… do you even have the slightest clue… Are you that dense, or do you just not want to see it?_ He bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut. _Of course you don’t want to…._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shitty chapter is shit. sorry guys, its like 6am.


	4. MADE YOUR BED, NOW LIE IN IT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so uh, [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nf0eT5bQaDM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i made a [playlist](http://8tracks.com/jeanhuhkirschnickerdoo/secret-oats?utm_campaign=tumblr_button) for the fic, songs may be added

Jean groaned, curling his knees under himself and turning his face toward the window. A thin line of blue-white light edged around the sides of the thick black cloth he and Eren had opted to pin over the window after waking up to the messiah-has-come-who-needs-retinas-anyway sunlight. Grabbing his phone and fighting every ounce of his being from throwing it against the wall, he unlocked it as once again it chirped at him – literally. Much to Eren’s annoyance, the art student’s text alert was a chocobo kweh!ing at him.

**[FRECKLES 8:03AM] Wanna get some breakfast?**

Jean huffed, shifting onto his back and rereading the text a few times, getting caught on the ‘sent at 8:03AM.’

 **[JEAN 8:10AM] Sorry, I’m busying figuring how to kill the cunt that texts someone before their asshole is awake.  
[FRECKLES 8:10AM] Oh? Do I need to wake your asshole up first ** (눈‿눈✿)

Jean felt his face heat up as he read the text. “Son of a—ow!” Cringing, he rubbed his forehead and rolled over to grab his phone that had aptly bounced off his face and landed next to his bed. Luckily, Eren slept like the dead most nights. He really didn’t want to explain this to him.

**[JEAN 8:14AM] fuck you man. Really why the fuck would you wake me up?**   
**[FRECKLES 8:15AM] the sky’s awake, so I’m awake.**   
**[JEAN 8:15AM] yeah I’m going back to sleep**   
**[FRECKLES 8:17AM] okay, okay! Will you just come to the diner for breakfast before psych? I wanted to talk to you…**

Jean sighed, staring at the dots and ignoring the mini-anxiety attack they elicited. _Fucking dots._

**[JEAN 8:18AM] I’ll be there in fifteen**

* * *

 Jean shivered, tugging his jacket up around his neck as he pulled open the door the café. It was different, honestly he didn’t know if he had ever seen it in natural light before. Or at least morning light. It didn’t take long to spot Marco, considering he was waving his arms and practically bouncing in his seat. Who the fuck was so chipper in the morning?

Sliding into the booth he looked up, well not up much, to see a familiar blonde smiling at him with a cheerful look that didn’t quite hide the fatigue in her eyes. Not surprising, Sasha and Ymir didn’t exactly seem like morning people and probably kept her up. With ease she set a plate of waffles, hash browns, and bacon down in front of each of them; apparently Marco had thought it wise to order for them both, and he was right.

“Anything else?” Her voice was almost loud in the hush of the morning as she topped off Marco’s coffee.

“French vanilla cappuccino. Please. Fast.” He pulled his coat tighter as he bit off a chunk of bacon, suppressing another shiver. “Why are mornings so fucking cold?”

Historia giggled, almost feeling sorry for him as she jotted it down to add to the tab and went to make his drink. Fast, as he had said.

“Coffee? Didn’t think you drank the stuff. It _hurts your stomach._ ”

Jean glared at him and shimmied out of his jacket so he could eat, fork slicing through the steaming waffles that he had coated thoroughly in cinnamon. “Yeah well some dick decided to wake me up early and so I need caffeine.”

The two ate mostly in silence, Jean digging into his food like a starving animal, pausing only to give Historia thanks as she brought him his drink. Plate empty, he leaned back, nibbling on his last piece of bacon and eyeing Marco carefully. The raven was eating, sure, but slowly, moving his food more than actually consuming it. He was tense.

“What is it, Marco?”

Marco jumped, dark eyes moving to look up at Jean. “What?”

“You said you needed to talk didn’t you? Added the dots and everything. I’m pretty sure you didn’t just want to see me inhale waffles. So, what is it?”

Marco laughed nervously, shifting in his seat, avoiding looking at him. “Yeah, well…you see, um, I just thought since we’re best friends and you,” _kinda are in love with me,_ “Well I thought I should…”

Jean deadpanned his gaze, wiping his fingers carelessly on his jeans and sipping his drink, which clearly came from the center of the earth with the way it scorched his tongue and left it feeling crunchy. “Well that clears things up, thanks.”

“I’m dating Mikasa!” Marco blurted out the words, a light pink painting his cheeks.

“I know.” Jean sipped his cappuccino, now finding it bitter despite the fact that he was pretty sure there was more sugar in it than coffee.

“Wait, what? You know?”

Jean had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, feeling himself becoming frustrated with the situation. “Yeah, I saw you two together.” Marco just stared at him in confusion, and this time he did roll his eyes. “Halloween.”

The light bulb coming on in Marco’s head was almost visible as he realized, before slouching a bit, keeping his eyes on the mug in his hands, dark liquid steaming in his grasp. Shifting down in his seat, as if he could just disappear, his voice came out quiet. “I…I wanted to tell you before…”

“How long?” Jean had to fight the urge to punch himself. It’s not like Marco, or even Mikasa, belonged to him.  He couldn’t deny how much this felt like the ‘there’s someone else’ talk, though.

Marco shrugged, and for a second Jean thought that was all the answer he was going to give him. “Kinda started feeling it in like September…but I guess it became official a couple weeks before Halloween?”

Somehow Jean wasn’t surprised, but thinking about all the times he’d seen them together, and what he had seen and _heard_ on Halloween…it all just settled like a rock in the pit of molasses that had become his stomach. He nodded slowly, taking another sip of his drink. What was he supposed to say? He could say it was no big deal and congratulations, but Marco knew better. Jean was an honest man, but for once he really didn’t want to be.

“Look, Jean, I just… I thought you should know.” Marco’s voice was nervous, guilty even. “I mean…I know you…”

_Stop...just stop._

“You know…” Marco’s voice was barely audible, even so he knew Jean could hear him. “I’ve always loved you Jean, but,”

Jean clenched his jaw, letting out a slow, heavy sigh. “But I’ve got a dick.” Marco’s nod was his only response, and he could feel the anger churning in his core. _That didn’t stop you from enjoying…_ He shook off the thought, a bridge he had burned long ago. “It doesn’t matter that you say that shit, or that you have a girlfriend. Fucking good for you. But I’m your best friend – you should’ve told me.”

He watched Marco’s mouth work, nothing coming out even if his expression screamed how terrible he felt. It didn’t matter, Jean just wanted out of there before he said more. Standing, he tossed a five on the table and grabbed his drink, wondering how Historia would’ve known to give him a to-go cup instead of the usual ceramic mug.

“Look, I’ve got to get to psychology. We’ll…we’ll talk about this later.”

Marco nodded, looking like a lost puppy dog. “Okay…”

* * *

 Jean had showed up to psychology fifteen minutes early, arriving just as Levi unlocked the door. Those steel-gray eyes that just screamed insomniac eyed him curiously before opening the door and giving him a ‘you just gonna stand there looking like you’ve got a shit that won’t come out or are you coming in?’ Of course Jean had followed him, moving to take his seat.

He had only been in the class about a week, transferring in for additional credits late in the semester. He had been a little taken aback by his language and brash personality; it wasn’t exactly uncommon for one of the professors to be less than proper, but his foul mouth was on another level. He had an undercut that was a little cleaner that Jean’s, and even through the slacks and button-ups it was clear that he took care of that short body of his.

Of course, everyone knew better than to make fun of him for his height. Jean had called him shorty on his first day in class, the result being a book launched at his head like it came from a fucking bazooka. He was pretty sure the bruise was still there. That same class, he had asked for Levi’s last name, only to be threatened by another book. The brunet hadn’t bothered pressing the issue; Dean Pixis didn’t make him use it so apparently it didn’t matter if the raven opted not to.

The silence was almost unbearable in the room, nothing to keep his thoughts from shifting back to breakfast. Normally he’d have his headphones or something, but hadn’t thought to grab them before breakfast. All he had was his phone and he was pretty sure Levi would crush it with his pinky if he played any music on it. Just as he was debating leaving, students started filing in. Eren shot him a questioning look but didn’t bother to come talk to him, instead sitting in his normal spot. Maybe he should’ve left him a note when he left?

The class was admittedly boring. Jean was pretty sure that Levi knew every way to torture a man into submission without touching him, how to unmake a man. Even so, they were sitting here learning basics like what it meant when someone looked to the left or furrowed their brows. Really, all classes seemed boring after taking professor Zoe’s bio-chem class.

It was just as he started drifting completely out of focus that Armin nudged him. The blond was grinning, and he nodded over at Eren. Jean followed his line of sight to the see the brunet with his hand on his chin, tongue mindlessly running over the tip of his pinky that rested on his lower lip, his green eyes focused on…nothing. At Armin’s prompting, he noticed Levi walking up the steps toward where Eren had spaced out. Jean stifled a snicker as a grin spread over his lips, wondering if the brunet would come to attention before the shorter man got to him.

A loud clap resounded through the room as Levi’s hands connected together a hairsbreadth from Eren’s nose, followed by his annoyed, “Oi, brat!”

The result was possibly the most undignified squeak Jean had ever heard, followed by a deep red flush covered the German’s tanned cheeks. “I-I, sorry, Levi – ser – professor—“ Levi only rolled his eyes at the flustered teen and returned to the front of the class. Even so, Jean was pretty sure he saw a smirk tugging at the short man’s lips.

* * *

  _“Jean~”_

_Jean quirked his eyebrow, looking around as the blur that surrounded him slowly became the library. When had he gotten here? He didn’t remember coming here…_

_“Jean~”_

_“Armin? How did I—“ Before he could finish he felt his world shift, finding himself pressed back against one of the couches in the back of the library. And was he naked? Yeah, he was definitely naked._

_“How long are you going to make me wait, Jean?”_

Why does he sound like that? 

_His thoughts didn’t stray long before his eyes caught on the now-in-focus Armin. Blue eyes focused only on him, flooded with lust as his teeth worried over his posy pink lips. His peach skin seemed flush, tight over muscles that Jean wasn’t quite aware were there. Tilting his head, he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that he had silk, lacy wings protruding from his back, draping down to his thighs and that rather biteable ass._

_“Je-ean~” Armin practically keened, his hands drifting down to run along his inner thighs. Jean found himself unable to say anything as the blond sauntered toward him, slowly straddling his hips. “Jean~ I need you in me~”_

_With no more warning than that, Armin lifted his hips, spreading his cheeks and lowering himself until Jean felt the tip of his cock press against his entrance. Biting back a moan, his hands slid to Armin’s hips as the blond lowered himself until their bodies pressed together, a low whining pushing from those posy lips._

_“Jean~ Jean, fuck me~”_

_As if he had any choice? His hands digging into Armin’s hips, the blond practically bounced off his dick, holding onto the back of the couch for momentum, his screams echoing in Jean’s ears as pleasure coursed through his own body._

_“Jean! More, Jean! Jean!”_

“Mn~!”

Jean woke with a start, his own moan startling him from his sleep. He panted into his pillow as his mind tried to make the shift from dream to reality, a familiar hot, sticky mess filling his briefs. “Sh-shit…”

 Still breathless, he rolled onto his back and tugged his briefs off, using them to clean himself up before quickly digging out a clean pair and pulling them on. Just as he pulled on a pair of jeans, there was a knock at the door, startling him. Without thinking, he kicked his messed underwear under the bed before running to answer the door.

“H-hey!” Jean’s voice came out strained, and a little too loud, as he opened the door to see a familiar blond staring up at him. He could feel a heat coming over his cheeks, the dream still fresh in his mind. “What are you doing here?” _He came to see me?_ If he said the thought didn’t make his stomach flip, he’d be lying.

“I didn’t know this was your dorm.” Armin smiled, his voice so level and matter-of-fact.

“Huh? Then why are you here?”

Before Armin could answer him, Jean felt himself being tugged back and pushed out of the doorway by his shoulder. He hadn’t even heard Eren approach, but there he was, grinning like an idiot.

“He’s here for me, idiot.” Eren pulled Armin into a quick hug, welcoming him into the dorm. Armin gave Jean a small smile before being pulled over onto Eren’s bed.

Not really sure what to think, Jean slowly closed the door behind them. He grabbed a long-sleeved shirt and tugged it on as he watched them settle in on Eren’s bed, the brunet pulling out a laptop. He returned to his own bed, careful to keep the sheets pulled up – just in case. He couldn’t help sneaking glances at the two as he pulled out his sketchpad and a pencil. Armin had stretched out next to Eren, who had the laptop sitting across his hips. He watched as the blond’s head settled against the other’s chest, the brunet wrapping his arm around him.

They settled together so naturally, as if they fit perfectly together. There was no hesitation or awkwardness, no question of is this okay? They just were. The sound of the movie starting seemed unnaturally loud in the silence, drowning out the scritch of his pencil.

Jean wasn’t even paying attention to what he was drawing anymore. His thoughts couldn’t focus, even if his hand kept moving. He just kept getting pulled back to the two lying in the bed across from his.

_Do friends normally do that? I know they’re close but…I mean I guess me and Marco did…_

The thought did nothing to settle him, and he could feel himself getting angry. Why was he with that douchebag? Why was he cuddling with Eren? Why did he fucking come here to see Eren?

 _Why didn’t he want to fucking see me? What’s so fucking special about that asshole!_ Jean’s thoughts snapped with the pencil in his hand, pain twinging through his fingertips.

“Jean?” Armin’s voice was soft, both he and Eren looking at him, still relaxed together. “Is everything okay?”

 _No it’s not fucking okay! Why are you here! And,_ he looked down at the pad in his hand, blushing as he realized he had drawn a rear-view of demon!Armin from his dream, _why did I draw this! And why am I so fucking angry!_

“I’m fine,” He closed his sketchbook, sliding it under his pillow, “I just, I’m going out.”

He didn’t wait for a response, slamming the door behind him. He stood still for a moment, not sure where to go. His options were pretty limited, after all.

Ignoring the fact that he was still less-than-happy with Marco after breakfast yesterday, Jean found his feet carrying him down the hall and stairs toward the raven’s dorm. He needed to see him, needed to talk to him, needed to tell him about the dream. He needed his best friend.

He stood at the bottom of the steps, eyes on the closed door as he took a few slow, steadying breaths. He didn’t really want to look like he had run away from Eren and Armin like the coward he apparently was. Slowly, he approached the door, not sure why he suddenly had reservations as he lifted his hand to knock and call for Marco. He paused, stomach clenching.

_That wasn’t what I—_

“Ah~ Marco!~”

Jean blanched, the blood draining from his face as he heard a familiar chuckle even through the moaning. Were they really…Marco was…

“God Mikasa, you feel so good~”

Jean pressed his hands to his mouth, fighting down the urge to retch as his body grew hot and he forgot how to think, how to breathe. Stumbling back, he found himself with his back against the wall, slowly sliding down it. His breath was ragged, heavy. He wanted anything to not be hearing what he was, to unsee what he had seen before, to be able to tell his legs to _move_.

He wasn’t sure if he was moving, his mind screaming to go, thoughts spinning and threatening to drag him into darkness. But the last thing he wanted was to black out in the hallway and have them discover him.

“Jean?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides, aggressively whispers from the darkness* _markasa_
> 
> Friendly reminder that comments are what keep me going


	5. THERE'S A GUN FOR ME, THERE'S A GUN FOR YOU, BETTER SHOOT TO KILL

Jean couldn’t quite remember what had happened, how he’d gotten from the first floor dorm hallway to the Outside the Walls café. He remembered hearing his name, the nausea that accompanied it, the way his stomach churned and his chest squeezed in on itself and he had to force himself to remember to breathe. If someone was there…then it was really happening.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know Marco would find someone, or even that that someone had been Mikasa – though that particular detail was salt to the festering wound. Even so, he had held desperately to the idea that maybe, just maybe, the freckled man he had fallen for years ago would realize the fact that they had the same parts shouldn’t matter as much as it did. That he didn’t seem to mind in the past. Burned bridges were all well and good, but meant little when Jean was willing to jetpack to the other side.

The brunet jolted, thrust back into reality as a cup of hot chocolate clanked onto the table in front of him. The smell wafted up to him, a mix of cream and sugar and chocolate and cinnamon. A smile threatened to tug at the corner of his lips; she had ordered it special, with mini-marshmallows, whipped cream, a stick of cinnamon, and a bar of chocolate – the good stuff, too.

“Thanks…” His voice was quiet, barely audible, and it almost surprised him that she had heard him.

“Not necessary, kid, you looked like you could use a little comfort. And by ‘could use a little’, I mean you looked like you were about to pass out in that hallway and end up in an awkward-as-fuck situation.”

Jean’s expression conveyed his agreement; she was certainly right about that. Had she not called out to him, he doubted he would’ve been aware of where he was much longer. It was still awkward as fuck, as far as he was concerned. Even so, it could have been worse; it could have been Armin.

“Gonna tell me about it?” It was really more a statement than a question, followed by her puffing her bangs and pressing a few buttons on her phone, sending a quick message. Jean couldn’t help a little smile as he saw the name, Moblit, and the softened expression in her eyes as she sent the message.

“Professor Berner?” As the words left his lips, he noted the way her thumb habitually spun the small white gold band on her left hand.

She smiled, nodding. “Yeah, I guess no one really puts it together since I chose to keep my maiden name for classes instead of changing it. For simplicity’s sake.”

“Married then?”

She nodded again. “Couple months, yeah. But you’re derailing.”

Jean smiled, unable to deny the accusation as he took a sip of his hot chocolate and found himself pleasantly surprised that it was rather delicious. The two sat in silence, Hanji sipping at her own hot chocolate, with a small dose of coffee and a shot of espresso, waiting for him to talk to her. He let out a small sigh, glad that at least the diner was more or less empty at this time of day.

“What do you want me to say, Profe—”

She held up a hand, aptly interrupting him. “Hanji.”

“ _Hanji_. You were there, you…heard it.”

“Hm,” she nodded acknowledgement. “That’s Marco’s room right? You two were pretty inseparable, right? And it was really no secret that you were digging Mikasa’s chilli.”

Jean only stared at her, blinking. He wasn’t sure if he was more thrown by the phrase, or by the fact that Hanji had known this much. Just how deep into their personal lives was she?

“So your best friend got with the girl you liked. I suppose I can understand that, I mean Mikasa is rather beautiful, and she excels at everything she does.”

Jean shook his head, gripping the ceramic mug and letting the heat seep into the palms of his hands. He took a few slow breaths, thankful that as eccentric as Hanji could be, she was at least halfway patient with him now.

“It’s…it’s not that…” He bit his lip, never quite able to forget the way people in his hometown treated him or anyone else who was less than straight.

“Ah, so it’s Marco then?”

Jean nodded slowly, unable to help the way his stomach churned, even with the creamy liquid coating it. Would she think he was gross? An abomination? It was all he could do to brace himself to be berated, to be loathed.

“I guess that’s not really surprising when you think about it. You two were ungodly close, a lot like that trio.” She shrugged, sipping her drink.

Jean could do nothing but stare at her, completely dumbfounded. Nothing in her voice said she was disapproving, nothing even screamed that she cared all that much. For all her words, she had basically shrugged and said ‘okay.’

“You don’t think it’s gross?”

The boisterous laughter that followed startled him, and by the clatter in the diner he was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one. He could do nothing but stare at her as her cheeks turned red, her laugh finally dying down as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Surely he hadn’t said anything _that_ funny.

“Why would I?”

Golden eyes turned back to his mug, and he wondered when he had eaten the whipped cream from the top. “Because its two guys.”

“Fuck, Jean, what kind of backwater town did you come from?”

 Jean smiled at that, eyes lifting to hers. “Trost.” Hanji tilted her head in the same sideways nod of knowing he had given her. “It…it doesn’t bother you? I mean, me being bi and all.”

Hanji snorted, and Jean wondered if she was going to laugh at him again. Instead she only shook her head, leaning back in the booth and holding her mug in both hands. “Why would it? You’re not the only one on campus who is less than straight. We’ve got a little bit of the whole spectrum, even an ace, and trans.” She smirked at the thought. “This place is like a queer magnet or something.”

Jean couldn’t stop the small laugh that pushed from his lips, one that was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. “But…”

“Look, Jean, love is love,” Hanji smiled as he looked up at her words, all the way into her eyes, “with love all that matters is what’s in your heart, not what’s in your pants.”

Her words hit him hard, it was almost unbearable. They pushed into him, forcing the doubt and the fear from every limb, wriggling its way into his skin and leaving him with an almost painful sense of relief. His breath shuddered as it pushed from his lips, his voice softened and his eyes burned with tears.

“Thank you…”

* * *

“Jean? Are you listening, Jean?”

“Huh?” The brunet looked up to see an exasperated blond staring at him, the pen in his slim fingers a blur as he fiddled with it impatiently. “Oh, uh, sorry! Right, where were we?” He looked down to the notebook and open textbook in front of him.

Armin sighed, shifting to sit on his foot. “You’ve been like this all week. I mean I’ve seen students get scatterbrained around Thanksgiving, well any holiday really, but you came to me for help, extra help, for this final right?” Jean outwardly winced, nodding to his question. “So why the hell are you so spacey?”

Jean shifted, crookedly pressing his lips together and furrowing his eyebrows. “It’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh. The same sort of nothing that it was on Halloween?”

Jean let out a small, mirthless laugh and slide down in his chair, spreading his legs wide as to not kick Armin. “Just like that, actually.”

The blond tensed, holding his breath for a couple seconds before slowly releasing it. He was glad that his hands were under the table and Jean couldn’t see the way his fingers seemed to extend and flex on their own. Luckily, Jean could be a bit daft and didn’t notice things he wasn’t looking for.

“What did Marco do?”

“Mikasa.”

“Oh,” Armin only stared at him for a moment. “ _Oh!_ Ooh...”

Jean chuckled at his reaction, noticing the slight flush on his cheeks. Armin was hard to read; he was honest and blunt, but still seemed to hide much of himself. Even so, there was a certain tension to him but the brunet chalked it up to the awkward realization about his sister.

“Yeah, I kinda er… overheard it.” He couldn’t help but smile as the blond cringed sympathetically. “Heh, yeah, that was fun.”

“Wow, Jean, that’s…I’m sorry, I mean, I know you guys were close and all.” Armin squirmed a bit, unsure of what to say. He bit his lip, once again glad Jean was mostly keeping his eyes averted. Surely, if he looked at him, he’d notice that small spark of joy in his azure eyes. _What the fuck’s wrong with you, Armin!? It’s not like he’d ever…_  He couldn’t help but cringe at where his thoughts were going, where they always went when he was with the brunet.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! I mean…yeah…but you don’t need to worry about it!” Jean gestured a little frantically, finding himself more upset than appropriate over the face Armin was making. _Awesome, not enough that you’re a jealous piece of shit but now you’re making Armin worry, too._

“What? Oh! No, no, it’s not that!” _Shut up blondie, you can’t tell him what you were really thinking._ “It’s just, uh, you need to do something fun! Get your mind off it.” Armin smiled, he always was good at thinking on his feet. “I know! Let’s have a guys’ night!”

Jean quirked his eyebrow as a smirk tugged at his lips. A guys’ night didn’t exactly sound thrilling, but he couldn’t help the way Armin’s excitement seemed to contaminate him. “Guys’ night?”

The blond nodded, his golden hair swaying in the movement, a perfect grin spreading over his face. “Yeah! I mean…we’re in college so we’re all about as loaded as that homeless guy everyone denies lives in the stohess building. But, I mean, Eren has his Wii and I know he brought extra controllers. We could all meet in your dorm tonight, have a game night, just sit back and relax.” Armin looked at him, waiting anxiously for a response, a smile spread over the posy pink lips as he bit down on the bottom one.

Laughing, Jean held his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right, you win! I can’t say no to that face.” Smirking, he winked without realizing what he had said. Gathering his things and stuffing them into his bag, he ruffled Armin’s hair as he turned to leave, failing to notice the blush on the blond’s cheeks. “Thanks, I’ll see you tonight.”

* * *

Jean watched closely as Eren set up the Wii, grumbling as he tried to reach behind the old projection-screen television. He busied himself with filling a few bowls with potato chips; Armin had dropped them off earlier before rushing off to the nearby store when his brother had informed him of their lack of dip. Surprisingly, his flat mate had said nothing about the fact that they were having an impromptu gathering in their room for his butthurt. Jean had just assumed Armin had told him to be nice.

“Aha!” Eren sat back, a grin on his face as the screen lit up with the Wii loading screen.

“Congratulations, you’re smarter than a couple plastic boxes.” Jean grinned as Eren lifted his middle finger to him, not even bother to turn to face him. Before he could make another retort, a breathless Armin knocked and opened the door.

“I come bearing ranch dip!”

Jean grinned at him, unable to deny how happy he seemed, and took the dip to their little kitchenette. He set about pulling down a stack of plastic cups, a multi-colored set he had figured would make it easier to differ between who the drink belonged to.

“So do we know who all we’re expecting?”

Eren shrugged, making sure all the controllers connected properly since they liked to not do that. “Connie’s still unaccounted for. Well they all are really.”

“Uh well, Reiner was showing up as I was leaving. So I think he and Bert are taking the chance to um yeah.” Armin blushed, turning into the freezer to grab a couple ice cubes for his cup.

“Ah, well, either way only four people can play at once anyway right?” _They don’t seem to care about them being gay..?_

“Hey, hey!” There was a knock on the door, which had been left open a crack, and a familiar freckled face peeked through.

Jean would deny the way his stomach clenched, or the way he was certain he blanched when a pair of dark eyes peered around his friend’s shoulder. His jaw tensed shut as he watched Eren clamber to his feet and greet his sister and Marco, shooting an apologetic look to Armin. Apparently, neither had known. The brunet let out the breath he was fully aware he’d been holding when a small, warm hand squeezed his forearm behind the counter. It was odd the way those soft blue eyes seemed to fill him with a weird sort of tranquility.

“I’m fine.” Jean’s voice was quiet, but he smiled softly back to Armin.

It didn’t take long for them to settle in around the TV, Jean settling between the brothers after pouring an assortment of mountain dew and dr. pepper for everyone. The chips bowls, drinks, and dip were spread out in front of them and Eren handed out the controllers as the game loaded up.

Jean tried to ignore the way that Mikasa had settled between Marco’s legs, his hands around her waist and the wheel accessorized controller dangling from his fingers. The brunet quickly picked his usual Yoshi, Marco picking Daisy – as he always had, since he realized how annoying her ‘woo-hoo!’ was to Jean. Armin selected Toad, he rolled his eyes as Eren told them that he started picking him because people said he had a mushroom head as a kid.

“A—nd Waluigi!” Eren grinned at his selection, obvious it was his usual.

“Aw just like you, an angry little twerp.”

“At least he’s not a horseface like you!” Eren growled, a certain spark of mischief in his eyes.

Jean smirked, fighting a grin. “Oh, you wanna start something, you angry nipple!?”

Eren visible struggled not to laugh, reaching out and grabbing Jean’s shirt front, his foot knocking over a bowl of chips in the process. A snorting, breathless Armin quickly grabbed the two drinks, catching his breath enough to speak.

“Oi, brat! Watch what you’re doing!” He and Jean couldn’t stop themselves from laughing as Eren’s cheeks flushed red and he let go of his roommate’s shirt, shifting awkwardly back toward the screen.

“I told you not to call me that!”

The two of them burst into laughter again, slowly catching their breaths and turning back to the screen. It didn’t take long for them to get into the game, glad that Nic Colton was the only person in the dorm next to them, and he worked a night shift and wasn’t home for the night, anyway. After they had settled past the official awkwardness of the uninvited guest, they found themselves louder than they probably should be. As long as nobody complained, it didn’t matter; not like there were classes the next day anyway.

“Who the fuck picked fucking rainbow road!?” Eren groaned, shaking his wheel in frustration as he waited for his character to reload on screen.

“What’s the matter jaeger-meister? Can’t handle it?” Marco let out a little malicious chuckle as Daisy’s ‘woo-hoo’ seemed to echo throughout the room, putting him in second place behind Jean.

“Geez, and here I thought Ymir was freckled satan.”

Armin shifted onto his knees, biting down on his bottom lip as he focused intently on the screen, Toad neck and neck with Daisy. “Doesn’t matter, satan’s coming in third.” He grinned, squeezing the button down hard enough it creaked, as if that would make him go faster.

“That’s what they think.” Marco grinned, all too satisfied as he muttered his words into Mikasa’s ear, receiving a grin from her as she noted his tools on screen. Both watched as a winged shell shot out of his kart and flew directly into Yoshi’s ass before exploding, knocking him off the course too close to the end to catch up.

“WHO THE FUCK USED THE SHELL ON ME!?” Jean gestured angrily with his controller, still smiling despite his loss. “Man, I thought you loved me fr—Marco!”

Marco grinned, shrugging and nuzzling against Mikasa’s shoulder. “I don’t know about love, I mean I did just bazooka a spiked shell into your ass.”

“Yeah, well, you sure said you loved me when you treated me to breakfast earlier this week.” Jean hadn’t even realized what he had said, or the poison that seemed to drip from his words. The atmosphere shifted as Marco’s smile fell, a slight blush on his cheeks, and Mikasa tensed and sat up.

“Wait, that’s where you were? That why you couldn’t sta—” she bit her lip, it was obvious she was angry and they all knew what she was going to say even if she tried to stop herself. Apparently Marco’s need to talk to Jean about it had waylaid their first by a day. “You know what,” Mikasa pushed to her feet, straightening out her shirt even though it didn’t need it, “I’m not having this conversation here. I’ll talk to you guys later.” Without waiting for an answer, she left the dorm.

“Dammit, Jean,” Marco shot him a look, pushing to his feet and running out into the hallway after his girlfriend. “Mikasa, wait!” The door shut behind him, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hallway.

The three of them sat in silence, Jean shifting to lean back against the pile of pillows they had made into a makeshift lean-to couch. He could feel Eren’s eyes boring into him, and Armin glancing between him and his cup.

“What.”

“Real nice move douchey mcdouchington.”

Jean said nothing, flipping through the screen to pick another stage after turning off Marco’s controller. They played in silence, the fun had been sapped and he knew he had fucked up. _It’s not like I fucking did it on purpose. How was I supposed to know that it was my fault she couldn’t hop on his dick a day earlier?_ His jaw tensed as he tried, and failed to focus on the game.

“You know…I’m not saying that it’s not kinda messed up the way Marco handled everything, and I get that you’re hurt…” Armin’s voice was quieter than usual, but clear, thought out. “But, those two? They’re really happy together. I don’t know Marco that well, but I know Mikasa. She’s like my sister. And ever since she met him, she’s been a little happier, a little more receptive and open to people. It’s always just been us three, and she was always too closed to make friends really. But…since she met Marco, she’s made lots of friends.” The blond paused, chewing his lip and ignoring the way Toad drove into a pit of lava. “I guess it’s not my place, but maybe you should give them a chance to be happy, and be happy for them. Maybe even give _yourself_ a chance to be happy.”

Jean’s golden eyes flicked over to him, noticing Eren not looking at him but his agreement was obvious. He nodded slowly, running his hands back through his hair.

“Yeah…I’m sorry guys. I didn’t mean to fuck up the night…” He sighed, turning back to the screen to the game none of them were really playing anymore. “It was just like being sucker punched, losing the only person who I’ve ever had accepting me – in more ways than one.” The last part was muttered.

“He’s not the only one...” Armin blushed at his own words, awkwardly pulling his hair back and hoping to brush the flush off as heat.

Eren grinned and flipped off the Wii. “Armin’s right, you’ve had all your focus on Marco this whole time, you need to expand your sights.” He held up the case to a movie as he put it in the ps3 Armin had brought. “Maybe some Loki or Natasha? You seem the type who’d like a little bad.”

Jean snorted, taking a sip of his dew. “Are we really going to sit here and talk about who I want on my dick?”

Eren grinned back over his shoulder. “Oh? I got the impression you’d be the one taking dick.”

“Oh my god, Eren…” Armin hid his face, certain his blushing was obvious as he shook his head in shame of his brother.

Jean grinned, a small laugh bubbling from his chest as he settled into the pillows. “Shut up and start the movie, sluterella.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry if this is shit. this is the first thing i've written since i kinda lost my heart for writing, so im' really sorry if it fell flat


	6. YOU'RE JUST TOO PERFECT FOR MY HANDS TO HOLD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> filler chapter and somehow it turned into this

Jean let out a sigh, lowering the book he had been holding above himself down onto his face. The pages blocked out the light of the room, but not the noises of the hall. The brunet lay still, taking in slow, deep breaths, inhaling the unmistakable scent of book. The odd mixture of paper and ink filled his nostrils and sank into his stomach, leaving him with a tranquilized sated feeling. He had always found it amusing that the processed flesh of dead trees could soothe just about any hurt.

The room was suddenly filled with noise, drawing his attention, and he lowered his book just enough to peek over it. Eren was grinning, waving off someone as he shut the door, his expression shifting to one of obvious relief. Finals had passed, and thanks to Armin, Jean had too, and December seventeenth had finally rolled around. Not that it mattered, students and teachers alike had been in I’m-not-getting-up-before-p.m.-for-the-next-two-weeks-you-cunt mode for a couple weeks already.

“Geez it’s like a fucking zoo out there.” Eren sighed, digging out a large bacon cheeseburger with ‘pickles only’ and tossing it to Jean, glad for the little sticker on the wrapper.

Jean grinned as he caught the sandwich, the delicious smell of meat filling his nostrils and causing his mouth to salivate. “Aw, don’t tell me it’s making you homesick.”

“I already told you I’m no—oh you twat, shut up!” Eren grinned as he whipped a ketchup packet at Jean, striking home against his face as he burst into laughter.

“You know,” Jean paused, letting out a little hum of pleasure as he sank his teeth into the burger, the juices basically fucking his taste buds, “you never really did tell me why you don’t want to go home.”

Eren shrugged as he sipped his orange crush, turning back to shove a piece of lettuce and pickle that were trying to escape his own bacon cheeseburger back under the bun. “Well my dad’s a dick.” He said it so matter-of-factly that Jean almost laughed, until he saw the look on his face. Green eyes caught his look of sympathy, and his flat mate waved him off. “He was always busy with work, a _doctor_ y’know.”

He shrugged again, trying to be casual. “He cared a hell of a lot more about other people’s kids than his own. Even after Mikasa came along, it never changed. He treated her like he treated everyone that didn’t come from his own dick. And I mean after he found out his only son was less than straight? Yeah, well what little relationship we had was shot to hell with that. If mom had still been around, maybe it would’ve been different, who knows.”

Jean could only nod, he understood better than anyone how that went. Though he never had the chance to tell his dad, already long gone by time his sexuality came into existence. The room was silent for a moment as they worked on their food, the brunet cringing as he watched Eren lick a spot of mustard from his thumb.

“Wait, what’d you mean by he treated Mikasa different. Isn’t she your sister?” Jean rolled up the foil from his burger, happily reaching into the bag to grab his seasoned fries and a few extra ketchup packets.

“Hm? Oh, Mikasa’s adopted.”

“What, really?”

Eren nodded, quirking an eyebrow at him. “You never wondered why she’s only a month older than me?”

“Heh, never really asked when her birthday was.” Feeling sheepish, he shoved another fry in his mouth and waited for Eren to continue.

“Yeah, I don’t really know how much I should say, I mean she doesn’t like to talk about it much. But her parents were killed when we were nine – a robbery gone bad. Well, me and Dad were already on our way over there, and when we showed up the guys were already gone and I found her in a closet. Dad said she had no other family, and Mom refused to let her be put in the system. So she became my sister and that’s all there was to it.”

It didn’t seem to bother him at all, and Jean could only imagine what that was like, never having had a sibling—or seen dead bodies. He watched as Eren dug out his own fries and hastily began to eat them, kid acted as if he was starved.

“So that’s it then? Don’t want to see daddy the prickhole?”

“Yeah, well, that and Mikasa.” Jean looked at him questioningly, expecting him to continue. And he did. “Apparently she’s bringing Marco home to meet daddy dearest,” he rolled his eyes and took a bite of fried potatoey goodness, “I don’t really feel like being around for the love fest.”

Surprised, Jean managed to inhale a piece of french fry, sputtering a cough and frantically grabbing his mountain dew, chugging it down and breathing heavily as if he thought he had nearly lost his life. “Wait, seriously? He’s going back to Shiganshina with Mikasa?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Jean only shook his head, taking a heavy breath and swallowing down the frustration when someone knocked at the door. “It’s open!”

A familiar blond head poked in around the doorway, hair still damp from a recent shower. Smiling, he pushed into the room, the amount of noise from the hall minimal compared to when Eren had arrived. His eyes lit up as his brother held out the cardboard container of fries, happily taking a couple. He shifted awkwardly as he took a bite of one, the dorm mates still not sure why he was there, not that they minded.

“So, uh, how do you guys feel about a third roommate?”

Both immediately sat up on their bed, Eren furrowing his brows and instantly shifting into protective brother mode. Jean found himself not far behind, the itch of worry creeping into his neck and he stifled the question of why.

“Did someone do something? Just tell me who, I’ll take care of it.” There was no faltering in Eren’s voice, and Jean couldn’t help but almost be jealous at their relationship.

“What? No, it’s nothing like that.” Armin shook his head, taking another bite. “It’s just, um, well,” He sighed heavily, plopping onto the edge of Eren’s bed. “Well Bert and Reiner left while I was in the shower, and kinda locked me out.” Hanging his head, he worked his fingers together. “And Marco already left with Mikasa so I’m sorta locked out for the next couple weeks. So I…” The blond trailed off, mumbling too low for either of them to hear.

“So stay here.” Jean tried to bite back the slight excitement in his voice; it wasn’t a good thing that Armin had gotten locked out of his room. It meant for the next few weeks the blond would have to share a bed with one of them and would be forced to wear their clothes. He couldn’t stop his mind from thinking about the blond in one of his t-shirts, much too long for him, crawling into bed next to him.

_Fuck fuck fuck don’t think about that you dumb shit that’s not going to happen._

Armin perked up, his eyes practically sparkling as a smile spread across his perfect lips. “Really, you guys don’t mind? I mean I don’t want to intrude.”

“Dude, you’re my brother of course its fine you stay here. Don’t worry about it.”

Armin threw his arms around Eren, squeezing him tight as he thanked him. Jean would forever deny the jealousy that boiled up in him, or the fact that it happened more and more often as he spent time with the blond, or that that jealousy was quelled when he received the same hug—which he awkwardly returned.

“Thanks guys, you’re life savers. Bu—t, I think I’m going to have to go make a run because no way can I stay in a room that smells like this and not get hungry. It smells delicious.” Armin grinned at Jean, crooked with mischief, and the brunet couldn’t do anything but avert his eyes and hope he didn’t notice the blush. “I’ll be back in a bit!” Still smiling, the blond shut the door behind him.

The room seemed suddenly empty as Jean sat there, waiting for the heat in his cheeks to die down as he busied himself with the trash from their dinner, carrying it to the trash in the kitchen. He took his time, hoping that whoever had text Eren would distract him.

“So…” Eren leaned back on his bed, propped against his pillow as he watched Jean try to distract himself. “Why exactly is it that _you_ aren’t going home? I mean you seemed pretty close to Mama Kirsch from what I know.”

Jean shrugged, heading back toward the bedroom area of their little mini-loft. “Yeah, but Mom’s not even going to be home. She called a couple weeks back, she got an offer to do this big Christmas thing a couple cities over, cakes and pastries and all that sweet shit. I know she’d turn it down if I wanted her to, but I think she was excited for the recognition y’know? So I told her to go ahead. Really, what’d be the point of me making her stay home just to watch me sleep?” Stretching his arms above his head, he plopped onto his bed, pushing back to sit against the wall, his lower legs sticking straight off the edge of the mattress.

“What about your dad?”

“What about him? Haven’t seen him since I was old enough to walk. He walked out for a date with the bottom of the bottle and never came back.” Jean held up his hand to stave off Eren’s pity, or sympathy maybe. “Look, it sucked, it was hard, but Mom was enough. When she couldn’t be there, well, Marco’s parents were like mine, too.”

“Okay, so you have a chance to have the house to yourself and you’d rather stay in this shitty ass dorm with me?”

Jean sighed, running his hands back through his hair. “Look, no one in my dear shit of a town likes me, okay. I’d rather never spend another moment around them; that’s why I came here, after all.”

Eren snorted, turning to look at his friend. “Well I can’t blame them, who can really get along with a horseface like you.”

Golden eyes deadpanned over Eren, unamused. “Hey, _brat_ , none of them like me because,” He hesitated just barely, even if he had no doubt that his roommate wouldn’t give a damn, “because I’m bi.”

The german looked at him incredulously, staring a moment before replying. “So?”

“So. Small town. Not real fond of you if you’re not straight as an arrow.” Jean held up his arms, closing his eyes as he mimicked firing a bow.

“It can’t really be that bad.” Eren shifted, turning to prop himself up on his elbow.

“Marco’s face?”Jean ran his finger along his own face, as if tracing his freckled friend’s scar, “That’s because someone found out I liked him. They put him in the hospital, Eren.”

“Shit, man, I—wow I’m so sorry.”

“It’s past. Marco never held it against me. But I don’t know, I guess it was about then I just decided to keep to myself as far as relationships go. ‘Specially since Marco ended up being straight.”

“Well what about Armin?” Eren’s lip twitched as he fought down a smirk.

Jean’s eyes widened just a bit, and he could feel his cheeks heat as he fought a stupid ass smile and averted his eyes. “What about him?” Eren just stared at him, an amused look in his eyes as he deadpanned. “What!?”

Eren snorted, sitting up with his feet together and pulled in to his body, his legs resting open. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve seen the way you look at Armin. You look at him like—”

“Like you look at Levi?”

Mouth snapping shut, Eren just stared at him in disbelief. He could feel his cheeks heat up and his heart beating in his chest in the silence in a way that left him feeling uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, do you...?”

Jean studied him, searching for an ulterior motive and finding none. “What’s it matter, Eren?” His voice was quiet, but harsher than he meant it to be.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Running his fingers back through his undercut, he let out a heavy sigh, pulling his knees closer to himself instinctively. “Look, Armin is…” He had no idea why he was telling Eren this, of all people. His mind was screaming to shut up, but he couldn’t deny that he somehow _wanted_ to tell him. “Armin is great, okay. He’s smart and clever and fun to be around once he actually lets you in. And he’s beautiful, _fuck_ is he beautiful,” Jean ran his fingers back through his hair with exasperation, leaving them there. “And it’s not okay. He doesn’t deserve to be thought of that way.”

“That way?”

Dropping his hands into his lap, Jean nodded. “Yeah. He deserves to be with some girl that makes him happy, not have someone _like me_ thinking of him as anything more than friends.”

Eren stood abruptly, fists clenched, and Jean thought he was going to hit him. Not that he’d blame him, he was certain it came off pretty offensive even for someone who was bisexual to say something like it’s not right to think of another guy that way. Even so, he couldn’t help it. Not after everything he’d put Marco through, and that Marco had put him through. He couldn’t risk Armin getting hurt or bullied because of him, even if he did have Mikasa and Eren to defend him.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He glowered down at Jean, who looked at him like an injured puppy.

“Wh— I—”

“Armin doesn’t care about gender, you witless twat.” He let out sigh, nearing the door and pulling on a coat and the green scarf with the school’s wings on the ends. “Oh, so about Armin,” Smirking, he stepped halfway through the doorway, “ _Do you like his hair_?” Eren couldn’t stop himself from laughing as he slammed the door shut, barely dodging the pillow Jean had thrown at him.

Jean let out a heavy sigh, dropping his head into his hands. “What the fuck am I doing? I’m so fucked.” His breath hitched at the knock on the door, knowing Eren wouldn’t bother knocking.

“Hey, sorry it took so long…I see Eren left.” Armin pushed himself up onto one of the stools, squirting too much ketchup onto his foil and piling a layer of french fries between the hamburger and bun.

Smiling, the brunet pushed to his feet and stepped into the bathroom, grabbing his towel. “It’s not a big deal, really. Hey, um, I’m going to go take a shower. You’ll be here, right?”

“Yeah, nowhere else to go.”

Jean gave him a small, disheartened smile. “Awesome, I’ll be back pretty quick.”

* * *

By the time Jean returned, Armin had finished his food, cleaned up some of the mess that was Eren’s half of the room, and settled comfortably on his brother’s bed, going so far as stealing a pair of his sleep shorts in exchange for the jeans he had been wearing. The brunet smiled, dropping off his wet towel over the hamper to dry before shuffling into the kitchen. Try as he might, his eyes kept drifting over to the blond, and he was certain at any moment he would ask why he was staring.

“So, uh,” Jean paused, surprised and amused that he and Armin echoed each other. He nodded toward the blond, gesturing for him to continue.

“I just—um, what do you guys normally do around here?” When Jean only quirked an eyebrow, he continued. “I just mean both of you are planning to stay here in the mostly empty dorm for a couple weeks, figured you must have something planned? I mean Eren is you know, ‘ _getting extra psychology lessons_ ,’” Armin rolled his eyes, a small smile on his lips. “What about you?”

Jean shrugged, embarrassed by the question. It was the same as someone online asking ‘what do you do for fun other than be online’, and he would find himself without an answer.

“I hadn’t really thought about it, I guess. Tumblr, movies, art.”

“Oh that’s right! You’re an art major! I almost forgot since I usually only see you for tutoring or in class. I’d love to see some of your stuff.”

“No!” He hadn’t meant to shout, biting his lip hard as he saw the obvious hurt on Armin’s face. Even so, he couldn’t bear for the blond to see his work. All those pieces he had drawn, pieces that were quite obviously Armin. What would he think of Jean if he knew had had thought about him that way, to that extent. _He’d probably think I’m some perv stalker._ “I just—they’re not really finished, is all. I don’t like sharing them that way.” He blushed, scratching the back of his head awkwardly but was relieved when he saw a smile on the blond’s face.

“Well I guess that makes sense. It’s like having someone eat pasta while the noodles are still crunchy.” Still smiling, something Jean noticed he seemed to be doing a lot, he shifted on Eren’s bed. “Well, I was going to watch a movie. You’re welcome to join me.”

Jean grinned stupidly, hoping it wasn’t too obvious the way his stomach churned restlessly. “Sounds great. Uh,” He turned to dig through the cabinets, “Got some chips and pop?”

“Chips sound good. And dr. pepper?” It was really more a statement than a question, Armin was fully aware that Eren kept a couple cans for him in their little fridge.

Grabbing a bowl, now full of chips, and a cup with their preferred drinks, Jean joined him. It was awkward settling onto Eren’s bed, foreign and just...different.  Stretching out his legs, he scooted closer to Armin, their legs touching as the brunet leaned close enough to be able to see the movie.

“Really?” Jean smirked, giving Armin an amused look as he watched the blond and raven on screen gambling for a map with loaded dice. He brunet liked to pretend he hadn’t seen the movie enough times to know the script.

“What? It’s a good movie!” He pushed his shoulder into Jean’s arm, who only chuckled lightly as he popped a chip into his mouth, the crunch making it almost impossible to hear the movie.

“’ _You fight like my sister!’’I’ve fought your sister – that’s a compliment!’_ ”

Jean let out an ugly, undignified snort, a smirk on his face. “They remind me of you and Eren.”

Armin didn’t look at Jean, a smile spreading across his face as he popped a chip in his mouth, voice casual as could be. “So does that make you El Tivo?”

Mouth opening in a mock-hurt gasp, Jean threw a chip at Armin, who burst into laughter. “You asshole! Geez, what’s with you two?” He turned back to the movie, a petulant pout on his lips. “My face isn’t that bad.”

“Not bad at all.” Armin smiled softly at Jean, both blushing as what he said sank in, their attention aptly turning back toward the movie they were only half watching.

The awkwardness that came with the following lack of conversation was nearly palpable. They were quiet for a long while, managing small giggles and humming along with the songs. It was awkward, but at the same time Jean was comfortable with him. He lay back onto the bed, arm stretched out over Eren’s pillows, and found himself more than a little surprised when Armin sank next to him, laying against his chest with his head in the crook of his arm.

Blue eyes turned to look at him, and Jean could have sworn he saw a little bit of mischief in them. “Is this…is this okay?”

“Y-yeah, its fine.” Jean could feel himself tense as Armin turned back toward the movie, and he could have sworn he felt him smile against his chest. There was no hiding the awkward blush on his cheeks before the blond had looked up at him, and he was certain it was obvious how tense he was.

_Shit he’s probably going to think I’m not comfortable with him or something. Dammit Jean, stop being such a bitch._ With a few steadying breaths, the brunet felt himself relax, and in doing so felt Armin relax as well. He hadn’t even realized the blond was tense.

“So, uh, why exactly are you staying here? I figured you’d be excited to go home and see your grandpa, you guys are close right?”

Armin tensed, it was barely noticeable but it was there. “Um, Grandpa’s not there anymore.”

“Huh? Where is he?” Jean was racking his brain, but he couldn’t remember Armin ever mentioning his grandpa leaving.

“Um…Shiganshina Cemetery.” Armin’s voice was almost sassy, but the way he pulled his legs into his body, it was obvious that it was just a defense mechanism.

“Shit, Armin, I’m sorry I—“

Armin shook his head against Jean’s chest. “No, you didn’t know. It was…It was toward the end of my senior year. Last March. He was sick, but he never told me. I guess he didn’t want to worry me, cause school and all. We were all the family we had, I mean other than Eren and Mikasa.” Long, slender fingers worried little points into brunet’s cotton T-shirt as he spoke. “I inherited everything. It was actually his life insurance that allowed me to come here.”

“I’m sorry, Armin I—wait I thought you got here on scholarship?”

Chuckling lightly, the blond looked up at Jean again, and he could have sworn there were unshed tears in those eyes. “Well, yeah. Okay so technically the money paid for Eren to come here. But it kept us together, y’know. That’s what mattered to me.”

Jean could only nod as Armin settled back against his chest, his arm moving to wrap around him in an awkward attempt to comfort him. “Well, still, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“Really, Jean, it’s okay.”

They stayed like that most of the night, moving only to switch out movies or for in-between-movies bathroom breaks. Jean was surprised at just how comfortable they seemed together. Even though they saw each other often, and were alone for tutoring, he hadn’t expected the awkwardness to just…dissipate. Nor had he expected Armin to be into such a variety of movies, going to from Disney, to Marvel, to Vampires – real vampires, not that Twilight crap that teenage girls liked to squeal about. He couldn’t help but agree when the blond snorted derisively, pointing out that real vampires don’t sparkle.

Armin even agreed to watch one of his Naruto movies with him, and to his surprise, the blond actually knew quite a bit about the anime. It was a very pleasant surprise to find they shared so many of the same fandoms, even if he had fallen asleep toward the end of the last movie. Jean could only smile as he shut down the laptop, careful not to move too much and wake the man sleeping in his arms.

Letting out a long, shallow sigh, Jean reached over and grabbed his phone, clicking the button on the side to turn the screen on. _Almost two a.m.? Where the fuck is Eren?_ The brunet’s eyes widened, lips pursed together as he thought about his flat mate coming home and seeing him in his bed with his brother.

Turning to look at said brother, he couldn’t stop himself from chewing his lip anxiously as he carefully brushed the blond’s hair back from his face. He didn’t stir. Without thinking about it, his thumb gently brushed over Armin’s lips, finding them as soft as they looked.

_Please don’t hate me_.

Cupping Armin’s cheek gently, he tilted the blond’s head up, bending a bit awkwardly as he gently pressed his own lips against those perfect, posy pink ones. It was nothing more than a whisper of a kiss. Jean furrowed his eyebrows as he desperately wished to kiss him again, to touch him, hold him, just _be_ with him. And to be with him honestly.

Pressing his forehead to Armin’s, he bit his lip hard, ignoring the faint taste of iron against his tongue.

_I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…_

Swallowing hard, he carefully shifted out from under the blond, who let out a small groan before falling back into sleep under the throw Jean had pulled up over him. Body tense and heart in his throat, he climbed under the covers on his own bed, grabbing his phone and shoving the ear buds in his ears, turning his music up loud enough to drown everything out. Futile effort, that. Nothing could drown the thoughts out no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much they hurt.

_I’m so sorry, Armin. I wish I could tell you. I wish I could stop. I can’t stop chasing after you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know the kiss while they're asleep thing is cliche is fuck but shut up i like it okay im sorry


	7. SHOULD'VE KNOWN YOU WERE TROUBLE FROM THE FIRST KISS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i took off the /10 for the chapters, because this and the next chapter weren't exactly planned. So not 100% sure on the chapter amount. probably no more than 12.

Jean let out a long, shallow sigh that shook in his chest. Staring down at the blond, curled in his comforter with his hands gripped tight to his pillow, he felt an odd sense of tranquility. And yet, he couldn’t deny the anxiety. The way he wanted to reach out and touch him, kiss him again, crawl into the bed next to him and just hold him. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to let Armin take a nap in his bed, but he knew the blond had gotten next to no sleep sharing Eren’s bed, and the way his eyelids were swollen and his eyes bloodshot, he just couldn’t say no.

Reaching out a cautious hand, he gently brushed the hair back from Armin’s face, careful not to wake him. _What the fuck am I going to do…_ Jean jumped, hand flinching back when his roommate cleared his throat, loud enough that the blond let out a little moan before relaxing back into sleep.

“I uh um,” Jean looked at Armin before turning back to Eren. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

Eren smiled at him knowingly, shaking his head and mumbling to himself. “You two are ridiculous.” He dug through the cabinet, the mugs clanking together as he pulled them out and set them on the counter. “Shouldn’t we wake sleeping beauty over there?”

“What for?” Jean leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

The german clicked his tongue, turning to Jean incredulously. “Uh, because it’s _Christmas_.”

“And you’ve been up since the sun was.” Jean rolled his eyes, letting out a little sigh as he rubbed his hands over his face and back through his hair. “Guess that explains why Armin was so tired.”

Eren shrugged, as he took the three scorching mugs of water from the microwave that screamed at him, setting them on the island frantically as the heat bit at his skin. Carefully, he emptied a packet of swiss miss into each mug; one a black mug with the dragonborn, one a deep purple with a seemingly glowing eye, and one a vivid orange with the future hokage. The ceramic tinged loud in the quiet room as the brunet stirred the powder in.

“It’s kind of a tradition for us, y’know.” Eren grinned as he took the bag of mini-marshmallows from Jean, making a clean layer on top of the make-your-tongue-crispy hot chocolate. “Getting up as soon as the sun’s up, exchanging presents. Then you know, Christmas dinner and all.” Sad green eyes turned to look up at Jean. “It’s his first Christmas since his grandpa died. I guess I just wanted to give him a little normalcy.”

Jean chewed his lip, the metal clanking against his teeth, as he looked over at the sleeping man. “I’ll wake him up,” He held up a finger, winking at Eren, “Don’t forget the cool whip.” The shorter brunet brushed him off as Jean turned back toward their bedroom, though he did start digging through the refrigerator.

 Crouching in front of his bed, he resisted the urge to do more than gently shake Armin’s shoulder. He didn’t wake, burying his face deeper into Jean’s pillow and pulling the comforter up over his mouth. Smiling, the brunet shook him again.

“Armin! Hey, come on, wake up!” He grinned, a little bit of mischief in his voice. “Presents?”

Armin paused, bright blue eyes slowly cracking open as he stayed curled up, barely lowering the fluffy comforter to his lips. He cheeks were flushed as he looked at Jean, only inches from his face, and he quickly pulled the comforter up to cover them.

“Presents?”

Jean laughed lightly at the small, child-like voice. It wasn’t Armin’s normal voice, but it was cute. “Yeah, presents.”

“And hot chocolate!” Eren grinned from the kitchen, gesturing with the skyrim mug, sugary cream piled over the lip.

Armin grinned as he pushed himself up, pushing the comforter off and rubbing his eyes. Standing into his stretch, his shirt pulled up above the band of his boxers and revealed a bit of skin that Jean would later deny eyeing. “Presents and hot chocolate? It’s just like at home.”

Jean couldn’t help the way such a simple statement seemed to warm his chest, his heart beating steady in his chest feeling vaguely like it was floating in a vat of warm syrup. It was an odd sweetness, a tranquility. He smiled, realizing that something as simple as Armin being happy made him happy. He would berate himself later for how dangerous he knew that was.

Following the blond to the kitchen island, he took his Naruto mug into his hand, enjoying the warmth on his skin. Tentatively, he sipped the sweet liquid, glad to find it didn’t scorch off his taste buds. Though, he didn’t miss that Eren went a little overboard with the whipped cream, now spotting his nose.

“I swear you do this shit on purpose.” Jean deadpanned as he reached over the counter for a paper towel. Before he could, he felt familiar, long fingers swiping over his nose.

“There.” Armin smiled as he sucked the whipped cream from his finger, a harsh blush rising into Jean’s cheeks and ears as he watched. The blond didn’t even keep his eyes on the brunet long enough to see his reaction, simply turning to sip his own hot chocolate as if what he’d done was the most natural thing in the world.

_Well maybe for him it was…I mean look at how affectionate he was with Eren, and even me._ Jean scooped his finger into the cream, casually eating it so he didn’t end up with it on his face again. _Natural for him or not…his fingers aren’t the only thing I’d like to see him licking._

“So, presents?” Armin smiled happily, his feet kicking under the high stool as he sipped at his drink.

Eren chuckled, nodding from his spot leaning against the sink. “Yes, presents. Uh,” He looked over the island, full of bags of chips, cups, and a few other things that none of them had bothered putting away, “Maybe on the floor would be better?”

The blond slid off his seat, a smirk in his eyes. “Hey, I told you to clean up last night but you were ‘too tired.’”

“Hey! Psychology is very exhausting!” Both Armin and Jean turned to him, unamused deadpanned expressions on their faces. “What!?”

“Yeah, anyway, can we just get to presents?” Jean set his mug carefully on the floor before crouching in front of his bed again, digging underneath it to pull out two wrapped packages.

When he returned, Armin and Eren were already sitting on the floor, their presents in front of them. Armin’s gifts were immaculately wrapped, the creases crisp and perfect, with minimal tape. Eren’s on the other hand had far too much paper, extra folds, and every crease had been taped. Jean was also pretty sure that those had once been to-go bags from the café. He smiled as he noted a partial Outside The Walls emblem on one of the presents.

Jean folded his legs, careful not to knock his mug over, sitting next to them to complete the triangle. He kept his presents in his lap, not in fancy wrapper like Armin’s, but not nearly as badly wrapped as Eren’s. No one said anything, the room silent but for the crinkling of paper and the green-eyed brunet sipping at his hot chocolate, noisily trying to inhale a melted marshmallow into his mouth.

“So uh—”

“Here!” Armin smiled, sliding his presents over to their recipients.

Jean returned the smile, sliding the larger of his two presents over to the blond, the smaller box shape going to Eren. The darker skinned man did the same, carefully balancing a rather large gift from Armin on his lap as he gave a small, thin, square to Jean, a larger, heavier one going to the blond. No one moved, holding their new packages in their laps.

“Fuck this—” Eren grinned, easily ripping the paper from Armin’s gift. His eyes grew wide, mouth open with awe as the light caught on the brilliant blade in his hand, a small oval cobalt embedded in the handle. “A dagger? Fuck, Armin,” He ran his thumb against the grain of the blade, the sound confirming its sharpness. “This is amazing!”

Armin beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “Glad you liked it! Just uh…don’t go stabbing anyone okay?” Eren waved him off, not taking his eyes from the glimmering blade. “Okay, okay, Jean! Now yours!”

Jean pushed down his awkwardness; he never was fond of everyone watching him open presents, even on his birthday. Christmas it was usually just him and his mom, if he opened presents with the Bodt’s, everyone opened them at the same time. Now, it was even worse. It wasn’t just anyone watching him, it was Armin, with that bed-tousled blond hair, and deep blue eyes, and perfect lips that he chewed anxiously.

Carefully, he popped the tape up from the paper, unfolding it carefully – which Eren aptly mocked him for before returning his attention to the weapon in his hands. Jean ignored him as he unwrapped the box. It took him a moment as he looked at it, and he even opened it because he was certain that Armin must have just recycled the box. He was proved wrong as he pulled a lightweight tablet and pen from inside the box.

“You…you got me a fucking tablet? Oh my fuck, Armin, this – you shouldn’t have, this is way too expensive for some kid you tutor.”

Armin laughed, a lighthearted, soft, almost melodic sound. “Well, you’re more than just some kid.” Jean blushed with surprise, quickly reassuring himself that he was thinking too much on Armin’s words. “Does that mean you like it?” Armin’s voice was small as he gave him a small, crooked smile, his eyebrows crinkling with uncertainty.

Jean grinned, realizing he sounded like an ungrateful ass. “I love it! It’s great, Armin, thank you!”

The blond smiled back, a genuine smile that seeped into his eyes and seemed to make the room happier. “Oh, good, I just…I know you like art and all and I wasn’t sure what to, I just mean – I thought maybe you could use it for you art.” Closing one eye, he rubbed his forehead with embarrassment.

“Yeah okay, if you two are done. Armin, you next!” Eren had finally set down his dagger when he broke into the conversation. He grabbed the present from himself and held it out to Armin, who took it.

The blond quirked an eyebrow at Eren, weighing the item in his hands. Slender fingers carefully pulled the paper, which still smelled faintly of cheeseburgers and coffee, from the package. Inside was an intricate, iron picture frame. More importantly was the photo; a very young Armin, no more than a few years old, sat in the lap of an older man, with a much too large hat on his head.

“Eren…” His fingers brushed over the picture frame, tears in his eyes as he set it on the carpeted floor. Careful of the frame, he leaned over to hug Eren, pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

Eren let out a little awkward laugh, scratching the back of his head. “I found it when we were going through all of your grandpa’s stuff. I mean the picture looked like it had damage – from a fire maybe? I don’t really know, but it was one of the few I saw of just you two. So yeah, I just thought cleaning it up and giving it a proper frame.” Eren shrugged, realizing he was rambling. “Open Jean’s present.”

Armin grinned at him, turning to glance at Jean who averted his eyes awkwardly, realizing he had been staring at them. The blond grabbed the larger gift, making a little surprised face at the weight. Carefully, he tore off the paper and tossed it to the side. Inside the wrapping was a thick, aged book. The pages were yellowed, housed inside a thick, flexible leather binding. The binding was quality, far too good of condition to be the original, and the cover had a large tree etched into it.

“This is…” He opened the cover carefully, smiling as he saw his grandpa’s name written in the corner, above the _Whispers In The Dark_ title. “But how…it was so torn up – I mean it was my fault, the puppy I brought home ate the cover…”

Jean grinned, chest swelling with pride. “Yeah, Eren told me.”

“Jean…you have no idea…” Armin bit his lip, and Jean was pretty sure he saw tears in his eyes. “Grandpa he…he would read to me from this book. Hell, mom even named me after it…I just…this is…” Carefully setting the book with the frame, he launched himself at Jean. The brunet’s breath pushed from his chest as he caught the blond, who wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. “Thank you so much, Jean.”

Jean felt himself flush, his chest fluttering and stomach churning. He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat that was his heart, wrapping his arms carefully around Armin. All he wanted to do was squeeze him tight and bury his face in that long hair and let everything out. And that was everything he refused to let himself do.

“It’s uh, I um, I’m glad you like it. It was Eren’s idea.” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Eren smiling softly, knowingly.

Armin slowly pushed himself back, wiping a sniffling nose. “Well, really, thank you, both of you.”

Eren grinned, picking up the small package he had wrapped for Jean, tossing it to him. The brunet caught it with little grace. “Now mine.” His lips curled into an obvious look of mischief; Eren always was an open book.

Looking at him suspiciously, Jean unwrapped the present. It was a small cardboard envelope, which he opened to see a card with a pair of fuzzy handcuffs and $25 on it. His cheeks lit up as he looked up at Eren.

“What is this!?”

Eren burst into laughter, clearly very proud of himself. “Well I thought you could use it to find yourself something more interesting than your hand.”

Jean’s already pink cheeks puffed up and he pressed his lips together, but Eren flicked another card at him before he could say anything else. Picking the thin piece of plastic up, he realized it was a gift card to the nearby outdoor mall. He looked at him questioningly, holding up the card.

“Hey, they’re both totally valid,” Eren shrugged, eyes flicking almost unnoticeably toward Armin. “Thought maybe you could take someone on a date there or something. Or, y’know, just buy more nerdy shit with it.”

“Yeah thanks.” Jean rolled his eyes and pushed the last present toward Eren. “Last one.”

With no grace, Eren tore the paper off and opened the little box. He stared at it with confusion, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth in thought. Sliding dark fingers under a leather strap, he held the item up in question. “Is this…”

Armin snorted, slapping his hand to his mouth and trying not to spit out his hot chocolate. He swallowed hard, laughter spilling from his lips as he eyed the two strips of leather in Eren’s fingers, connected by ball with breather holes punched in it. Once the blond started laughing, Jean lost control over his own laughter, the sound bursting from his chest as he practically doubled over.

“It’s so you don’t get Levi in trouble with all that screaming of yours.”

“Oh fuck you, man!” Eren grabbed the box, ignoring the fact that he was already thinking about if Levi would want to use something like that on him or if he’d want to be the one being silenced, and launched it at Jean’s face. His roommate only continued to laugh, none of them voicing the fact that Eren didn’t bother to get rid of the thing.

* * *

Jean tugged on the hem of his red sweater, thankful that this one was ugly enough to qualify for Christmas but at least it wasn’t itchy like the wool one from a few years ago. He wasn’t even sure how the reindeer sweater had made it into his things. He had planned to come home for the holidays originally, so he hadn’t packed his Christmas sweater.

“A reindeer? Really?” Eren grinned as he pulled his own sweater, a navy blue with specks of green in the yarn, and an almost eerie snowman on the front.

“Says the one with the creepy-ass snowman on his chest.”

Eren crossed his arms over his chest, smirking. “Shouldn’t it have been a horse? Much more fitting.”

“You guys done?” Armin smiled, finally sitting down the book. He had been reading it ever since they cleaned up after presents, a small smile constantly gracing his lips.

“And what about Mr. Rogers over here? Why does he get out of ugly-ass sweater day?” Jean jabbed a thumb at Armin.

The blond slid off his stool, looking over himself. He wore a much-too large gray-blue sweater that was large knit with a hidden zipper up the front, hanging loosely around his naked collarbone. Armin had rolled the sleeves up, the large cuffs still covering most of his fingers.

“Grandpa sweaters at exempt from all rules.” Armin smiled, curling his fingers around the cuffs.

Eren and Jean exchanged a meaningful glance, the latter nodding in understanding. Armin’s grandpa must have been bigger than him, or he wore his clothes large. Maybe both. Jean averted his eyes, smiling, as the blond caught him staring. He had to admit, he looked adorable in the too-big sweater.

“All right so, are you _sure_ it’s okay?” Jean grabbed his phone, expecting a yes as he headed toward the door.

“Yeah, Levi and Erwin gave us permission since we’re really the only people in the dorm. As long as we don’t burn it down, they don’t mind.”

Jean rolled his eyes as he shut the door behind the three of them. “I don’t even want to know what you did to get permission.”

The kitchen for the dorm was surprisingly clean. Jean had expected it to be a wreck, the students with rooms nearby to have made a mess, or used it for ‘science.’ Other than the obvious disuse, the room was mostly intact. He took inventory of the fridge contents while the others wiped down the counters and took out a roaster and a few large pots.

He watched curiously as Armin pulled back his hair, a look he couldn’t deny liking, and rolled his sleeves up. With deft hands he cracked an egg in the center of the small flour volcano, mixing them together and adding a bit of water to get the right consistency. Sprinkling flour over the table, he dug out the roller to spread it into a large, thin circle of dough. He smiled, not slowing as he continued.

“You look surprised, Jean.” Armin puffed his bangs out of his face, glancing up at him as he kept working.

“It’s just…I didn’t expect it I guess.”

“That’s fair, but I mean, me and Eren,” he pointed at his brother with the tip of the large knife in his hand, “We’ve been having Christmas together since we were tiny. Eren was always a bit of a momma’s boy—”

“Hey—!”

“So we helped in the kitchen a lot.” He shrugged, watching Eren put half of a spiral ham into the oven, covered with foil. He watched closely, making sure the brunet set the temperature right. Not that he needed to, they had made holiday dinners enough times to know what they were doing. “What about you?”

Jean shrugged, feeling a little out of place. “Not really…I mean not with dinner. It was usually just me and mom so it wasn’t any big thing. Eventually we did dinner with the Bodt’s, but Marco’s mom and grandma did most of cooking for dinner. Mama Kirsch, however,” He dug into the fridge, pulling out a chilled bowl with a ball of dough in it, “Well mom was always in charge of dessert.”

“Dessert?” Eren turned around, eyes wide like a child.

“Geez, Eren, you’re gonna have to wait.” Armin rolled his eyes, jabbing the butt of a knife at the brunet. “Help.”

Jean smiled as he watched the two go to work cutting the large flat of dough into smaller rectangles, stacking them and cutting them into noodles. Armin had to get onto Eren a few times; he always had the habit of making the noodles too fat. It was odd how comfortable it was, the three of them making a family dinner in an almost empty dorm, whilst singing less-than-christmasy songs.

“Huh.”

“Huh, what?” Eren pointed his knife at Jean, “You got a problem with Nightmare Before Christmas?”

Jean held his hands up in surrender. “Not at all, it’s a favorite. Just not what I imagined for a Jaeger Christmas tradition.”

Eren snorted, tossing another pile of noodles with the rest as Armin squeezed behind him to check the pot of turkey stock, sipping the liquid carefully. “What? Did you expect It’s A Wonderful Life?” He rolled his eyes, taking a handful of noodles and dropping them into the pot with Armin’s approval.

Smirking, Jean licked a spot of strawberry jam from his thumb. “Nah, that’s not till later.” He couldn’t help but grin as Armin silenced Eren’s protests, his golden eyes turning to focus on squeezing the dough of the pastries together. “Hey, Kirschtein family tradition.” Patting his hands on his apron, he pointed at the oven. “That thing done yet? You’ve been basting it every five minutes for like an hour.”

“Hey, it’s a process.” Eren turned toward the oven, pulling out the ham. It filled the room with a sweet aroma, the brown sugar and coke glaze certainly helping to bring out the flavor. “All yours, Martha.”

Jean rolled his eyes, grabbing the cookie sheet with the three pastries and sliding them into the oven. He adjusted the temperature and pushed himself up onto the counter. “They should be done just in time to eat. What about the noodles?”

“They’ll be done in a couple minutes.” Armin smiled, looking on top of the microwave to check the rolls. “Rolls and taters are done. Actually we could start setting the table and all, I mean the noodles should be done by then.”

With minimal hesitation, Jean and Eren wiped down three large plates and dug out the necessary silverware. It didn’t take long for the three of them the fill, and empty, their plates. It was an overall uneventful dinner. They ate, talked about their past holidays a bit, and Eren now had a life debt to Jean after he performed the heimlich maneuver to dislodge the overstuffed meat pocket that the shorter male had decided to attempt to eat whole.

“I think that’s everything.” Eren set the damp towel on the counter after drying his hands, looking around to make sure they didn’t miss anything. He didn’t particularly want to deal with a pissed Levi.

“And you didn’t even catch anything on fire.” Armin dodged the wet towel, catching it and hanging it on the fridge handle to dry. “What about dessert? It smells done.”

Jean opened the oven and ducked his head down, reaching in and poking an angel hair pasta noodle into one of the pastries. Pleased with the results, he dug out a pair of oven mitts. “Done. Go on back to the room, I’ll bring these up after I finish.”

Both boys nodded before disappearing into the hallway and returning to the room. Carefully, he pulled the cookie sheet out of the oven, transferring the flakey, strawberry-filled sweets onto a large plate. They smelled delicious, and he couldn’t deny that he was hoping Armin would like them.

“Really…trying to impress him, Jean? That’s fucking smart.” He rolled his eyes at himself, pulling out a sweet glaze and drizzling it over the three pastries. He sighed as he ran hot water through the empty icing bowl, swooshing the soapy water in it before putting it in the drainer and pulling the stopper from the sink. _Stupid or not, doesn’t stop me from thinking about it._

He let out a sigh of relief as he opened the door and the pastries were still steaming. Eren and Armin had already gathered all the blankets and comforters they could, piling them on the floor in front of the TV. Jean was pretty sure he even saw a few sweaters in the pile. They had already settled in, laying down with a cup of hot chocolate, and leaving a space on Armin’s other side for Jean. They had even gotten him another serving of the sweet drink as well.

“I come bearing sweets.” Shutting the door behind him, he set the plate down in front of them. “Uh, gimme a minute and I’ll join you.” Hopping over the edge of the pile, he slipped into the bedroom and changed into a pair of black sleep pants, not bothering with the sweater since the dorms were generally chilly. He’d normally wear just his undies to bed, but figured that might leave him in an awkward situation he really didn’t want to try to explain.

He returned quickly enough, grabbing forks from the kitchen before returning to the living room. Plopping down next to Armin, he hunched over to cut a slice off his pastry before opting to pick it up as the other two had. It was still hot, and he had to be careful to keep his hand under it, lest he end up with pastry flakes covering his front like Eren.

“This is really good, horseface. Your mom teach you—”

“Oh god, Jean~” Armin practically moaned, pushing his tongue into the filling to lick up a scoop of strawberry. “This is _delicious._ ”

Jean just stared, stunned as he tried to casually shift a blanket over his lap. The blond had seemed so innocent, but he was starting to wonder. _Or he’s just mocking me?_   Shaking the thoughts from his head, he turned back to Eren. “Uh, yeah, I’d help her in the bakery.”

Both brunet’s shared an awkward, knowing glance before turning back to their pastries and drinks. Jean was pretty sure Eren’s cheeks were as red as his. Armin kept his noises to himself as his happily nibbled away at his pastry, and the brunet was more and more certain that he had done it on purpose. Not that he could ask.

_What am I going to say? ‘Hey, did you make that sexual gesture to give me an awkward boner on purpose?’_

It wasn’t until he settled back into the pillows that he even noticed what was on TV. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading as the familiar black and white filled the screen in front of them. It didn’t hurt any that he was pretty sure that Armin had been the one to convince Eren they would be watching it.

“It’s A Wonderful Life? We don’t really have to, if you guys don’t want to.”

“Nah, man, its cool. I mean we did our family traditions, no reason not to do yours. You’re away from home too.” Eren gave him a crooked grin, gesturing toward the movie. “Besides, it doesn’t seem so bad. Armin reassures me it’s called a classic for more than just being old as balls.”

Jean smiled softly, nodding to both. “Thanks guys, it means a lot.” He remained reclined, stretching out his legs and pushing the pillows up behind him. “I’m glad I got to spend Christmas with you guys.”

“You’re not going to start crying are you?” Eren looked at him with mock disgust, Armin snickering at his brother.

“Pfft well fine, fuck you, sorry for being nice damn.”

Jean was the only one who remained awake long enough to see Clarence get his wings. Despite the mass amounts of sugar they had consumed. Eren had made it about halfway through before he passed out, head resting on Armin’s hip and effectively pinning him. Not that the blond cared; Jean got the impression they had always been like this since they were kids.

Armin, on the other hand, had fought to stay awake and fallen asleep only a few minutes shy of the end of the movie, head resting against Jean’s chest. The brunet didn’t say anything, didn’t try to move them or wake them. He couldn’t do anything but smile and shut down the movie, sinking just enough to rest his head against Armin’s and hope none of them spilled the remnants of their hot chocolate in their sleep.

“Merry Christmas, guys…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really didn't expect it to be that long, i hope it wasn't too boring or cliche or whatever.
> 
> also, the book gifted to Armin was a reference to [this wonderful fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1061314) and i highly suggest you read it and its sequel. my moirail is quite the wonderful writer.


	8. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, I'D CATCH A GRENADE FOR YOU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NEW YEAR'S EEEVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get to meet a few more babies with this chapter♥♥

Jean groaned as he flopped back onto his bed, legs bent over the edge of the mattress. It was winter break— _break_ —and yet here he was, getting a text from a professor beforethe crack of noon. He knew she had an uncanny habit of staying up into the most ungodly of the a.m. hours, frequently, and couldn’t help but wonder how she managed to get up early enough to teach classes and do her…experiments.

“Well, I guess that’s why she’s making me go on a coffee run.” He rolled his eyes, pushing to his feet and tucking his phone into the pocket of his hooded t-shirt, the weight of his hands straightening out the gray and blue stripes. Grabbing his wallet, he paused in his trip to the door as it opened. “A-armin?” He cleared his throat as he looked at the blond, skin supple from a shower, hair dripping, and his towel wrapped dangerously low on his waist. Jean swallowed hard, wondering just how much effort it would take to drop the towel to the floor.

“Oh, hey Jean.” Armin’s cheeks were pink, his long fingers scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Heh, I kinda forgot to take clothes with me. I figured no one would be up anyway.”

 _Was he…blushing?_ Jean shook off the thought. _Must just be from the shower, why would he blush for me?_

“O-oh, yeah, well, Prof Zoe text me for assistance.” He could feel his cheeks flush as his eyes traveled down to the ‘v’ on the taut body, a small trail of blond hair visible against his pink skin. Jean averted his eyes, trying to deny just how surprised, pleasantly so, he was by the muscles along Armin’s slender body.

_Wow…he looks way better than he did in my dream – wait no fuck don’t think about that Jean._

Jean turned away, realizing he was awkwardly trying to avoid looking at Armin. “Yeah, well, uh I gotta go take care of that.” Grabbing a shirt from the pile folded on the counter, he draped it over the blond’s head, almost ruffling his hair. “I’ll see you later.” He didn’t stick around long enough to see Armin’s blushing cheeks, walking out the door as he pulled his hood up over his head, hoping to hide his flushed cheeks and ears.

By the time he made it out of the dorm, his breath was coming out in short pants, puffing white clouds of steam into the cold that immediately bit at his heated cheeks. He tugged his hood further over his head, as if he could, and pulled his sleeves over his fingers, balling them into the material. It hadn’t done much more than flurry the entire winter, like Jack Frost was waiting for people to beg for the snow before he gave them a little fun to go with the so-cold-nipples-could-cut-diamond temperatures.

“Maybe if you weren’t so fucking busy checking out your best friend’s brother and thinking about sticking your –” Jean bit his lip, holding his arms close around his chest and trying to shake off the thought. “Come on you dumbass,” He grumbled to himself as he headed toward the café, “that’s exactly why you’re out here without a coat, last thing you need is an awkward boner.”

A cold wind nipped at his skin, slipping easily into his shirt, its cold fingers crawling over his skin until a hard shiver pulled him from his thoughts. The chill at his back seemed to make his feet move faster on their own, pushing him quickly toward the door and into the warm embrace of the Outside the Walls café. He couldn’t help taking the slow, deep breath, letting the heat fill his chest and seep into his body; the café like some sort of sanctuary to protect him from the ravages of the cold, at least as far as he was concerned.

His phone kweh!ed at him as he approached the counter, a smiling Sasha waiting patiently as he checked it. The café was pretty dead at the time of day anyway, and she happily sat back and munched on a fresh slice of apple pie.

**[THE MADNESS 10:37AM] get another large coffee, black  
** **[JEAN 10: 38AM] yes, ser**

Tucking the phone back into his pocket, he smiled at Sasha. “Uh, a large coffee, black; large vanilla cappuccino, with three shots of espresso,” Sasha paused in writing down his order, looking at him questioningly. He nodded and shrugged. “And, um,” He looked around, noting a few decorations and remembering that it was New Year’s Eve, “A hot chocolate, with a shot of espresso. Oh, and one of those strawberry filled pastries! To go.”

Sasha smiled as she bounced off and he heard the whir and sputter of the cappuccino machine as he leaned back against the counter. He pulled out his phone, mindlessly swiping across the screen to distract himself as he waited. When the door dinged, he didn’t even bother to look up.

“He-hey! I caught you!” Armin smiled, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Jean’s eyes widened, his thumb stilling on the screen of his phone as he looked at the blond, his cheeks flushed from exertion and cold. “What are you doing here?”

Armin smiled, those perfect lips pulling back over his perfect teeth, lighting up his blue eyes. Standing up, he held out Jean’s coat, as well as an excessively long blue scarf his mom had made him for Christmas, to him. “You forgot your coat!”He was still smiling, and Jean couldn’t help wondering why the hell he was so happy.

Warily, the brunet took the coat, holding back his question just long enough to pay Sasha as she left the carrier of drinks for him. “So you ran all the way out here,” he reached out, flicking his fingers along the hair that peeked out from under the blond’s stocking cap, “with wet hair, just to give me my coat?”

“I just didn’t want you to get sick or something.” Armin shifted, sticking his hands in the pocket of his pea coat. “Especially with the New Year’s thing being tonight.” His voice was reserved as he kept his eyes off of Jean, who sighed lightly.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to be a dick. I just don’t want you getting sick either.” He grinned as those blue eyes lifted to look at him. “You’re the smartest of us, we’d probably all die if we didn’t have you to take care of us after all.”

Armin let out a light laugh, titling his head. “I don’t know about that, I mean you have your mom around to teach you how to take care of people right?” There was a sadness that flitted through the blond’s eyes, there only for a second. Long enough that Jean noticed, berating himself for saying something so carelessly. “Well, uh, you should probably get going before your drinks get cold right?”

Jean slipped on his coat and grabbed the cardboard carrier by the handle, his other hand reaching for the sweet. It was warm through the wax paper; apparently Sasha had been kind enough to pull a fresh one from the oven for him. He’d have to remember to thank her for that later.

“Uh, yeah, if I’m too late I’m afraid that Hanji might decide to dissect me or something.” He walked around Armin, pushing against the glass door with his back, his hands full. “I’ll see you later, thanks for bringing the coat!” Jean hadn’t been more than a few strides away from the café when he heard the door ding again.

“You’ll be here for the party, right?” Armin yelled, the cold wind drowning out his already nervous voice.

“Yeah, sure!” Jean waved his arm in confirmation before turning and heading toward the classrooms. He hadn’t really thought about what he was agreeing to, but he couldn’t say no to Armin. He knew he couldn’t say no, and knew why, and ended up in a spiral of self-berating until he pushed open the door the Hanji’s lab, and heard a familiar male voice grumbling to her.

“Fuck Hanji, why did you even call me in this early for this shit.” Levi ran his fingers through his hair, and Jean noticed the darkness around his eyes seemed worse than usual.

“It’s not like you sleep anyway.”  She rolled her eyes as she bent down to look eye-level into a flask, her tongue out between her tight-pressed lips as she poured a second liquid into the first, letting out a yelp of victory when it didn’t explode.

“Exactly, you cuntmonger. So when I _do_ sleep, don’t fucking wake me up.” Levi rubbed his temples with exasperation, certainly wondering why the hell he had to be here in the first place. What—just to call someone when she blew herself up?

“Stop being such a ball sac, look I got you coffee.” Hanji gestured toward Jean, standing in the doorway, as she pushed her goggles back into her hair.

Levi turned to see Jean standing in the doorway, his angry glare looking almost relieved at the sight of coffee. “Fucking give me that nasty ass nectar of the gods.” He didn’t bother moving toward him, though the brunet noted the way he pulled the collar of his shirt up at the sight of him.  Jean squinted, questioning of the small red marks he was pretty certain he saw marring the pale skin.

 _Were those…Fucking Eren, you little fuck._ Jean snorted, pulling out the black coffee and handing it to him. He shook his head, handing the sweeter coffee to Hanji as Levi grabbed his milford coat and pulled the collar up to hide any potential marks. The raven popped the tab on the plastic lid, satisfied that it hadn’t been sipped from.

“Right, well, she’s in your hands now horseface. Don’t let her blow herself up, I happen to be fond of crazy.” Levi smirked, something that Jean rarely saw him do, and mischief glinted through his eyes as he pushed the door open. “I have to clean up before tonight.”

Hanji sipped on her drink, a shiver running through her as she licked her lips. “Oh sweet satan blessed liquid fire.”

Jean snorted again, sipping his drink and leaning against the counter next to her. “So what’s with shorty mcangry pants? Geez, he really needs to get some pussy or something.” _Pfft maybe Eren is holding out his virgin ass._

The woman sputtered into her cappuccino, coughing and choking out a laugh. “What, Levi?” Hanji let out an ugly snort, sipping her drink. “He’s about as straight as a diamond studded rainbow.”

Jean only stared for a moment, letting out a laugh when she nodded knowingly. _Well good on you, jerkface._

“Good, now come help me.” Hanji grinned, grabbing a flask of mystery fluid in each hand. When Jean made no move toward her, her smile turned a bit maniacal. “Unless you’d prefer I dissect you?”

“No, but I was told not to let you blow yourself up either. I don’t think that’s the kind of fireworks people want on New Year’s.”

“Oh that’s right! There’s a party tonight isn’t there.” She set the flasks down, turning to get closer to Jean. “You’re coming right? Armin’s going to be there…” She grinned, nudging his ribs.

“Which is just more reason not to be there.” Jean rolled his eyes, huffing and leaning back to sip his drink.

“What are you waiting for? This could be your chance to make a mo—ve.” Hanji grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at him, letting out a sigh when he ignored her. “Look, kid. What’s the deal. You like him right?”

“More than is okay.”

“Right, so, grow a vagina and fucking talk to him about it already.” She watched as Jean kept his eyes on his hands, his thumbs fingering over the edge of the cup. “You know…eventually it’s going to be too late.” She ruffled his hair, a smile in her softened voice. “Maybe you should stop wishing and do something about it?”

* * *

Jean took a deep breath as he stood outside the door of the café. It was beyond freezing, the temperatures having dropped into the single digits, and yet he found himself more comfortable standing here than entering the café. Here was safe, well other than the inherent risk of frostbite and hypothermia.

Even through the walls and windows, over the whirring wind, he could hear the laughter and voices from within the building. He couldn’t make out any individual words, but part of him yearned to be part of the warmth, of the joy. But the rest of him was cowering, hiding inside himself, crawling into the deepest, darkest depths of his being and hoping to never come out. That part that lit up when his eyes landed on the happy blue eyes, blond hair bouncing and cheeks reddened with laughter.

It was that spark that would apparently doom him tonight, as his eyes lingered too long and Armin happened to glance out the window. Those blue eyes seemed to search for something, lighting up when they landed on Jean, the male smiling and waving him inside.  Jean sighed, wrapping his fingers around the cold handle and pulling it open and kicking himself for coming here in the first place.

The brunet couldn’t help but grin as he was greeting with a wave of noise, cheers and jeers, music, and a TV broadcasting the ball dropping that was mostly drowned out. The café had been rearranged; tables pushed together, or moved to the side, and the booth seats moved to surround a makeshift table large enough for everyone there. The sweets display had been cleared out, spread out over the table, and apparently people had brought chips as well. He even noted the smell of barbeque sauce, eyes catching a small red-head scooping out a surprising amount of lil’ smokies onto her plate. She smiled and blushed when she noticed him staring, shuffling off to sit next to professor Bossard. She scooted close to the accident prone teacher, kissing his cheek and happily munching on her food.

_Wow Prof Bossard…didn’t expect that one._

“Hey, twat, you gonna sit down or what?” Eren grinned, waving at him. He was sitting in a booth alone with Levi, and it wasn’t surprising the way he seemed to snuggle into the older man’s side, the raven’s arm resting on the back of the booth. Jean just shook his head, pretty certain that if they weren’t so public Eren’s face would already be in Levi’s neck and his hand down his pants.

“Lock the door behind you!” Sasha shouted before he headed toward the table, pastry crumbs flying from her lips and causing Connie to shake his head.

Jean chuckled, shrugging out of his jacket and flipping the lock. He unwrapped the scarf, hanging them both on the already overfilled rack. His golden eyes scanned over the small group, most of them he was familiar with, some he wasn’t. Armin locked eyes with him and nodded to the empty space next to him, almost falling into it as a slightly inebriated Ymir pushed against him.

Shuffling sideways into the booth, he sat on the end, smiling thanks as Eren slid a glass of mountain dew over to him. “What, no Historia?” Jean winced as Armin dropped his head into his hand, shaking it solemnly.

“No, Historia, she – my dear, sweet, perfect, beautiful queen why did you leave me?!” Ymir’s voice was loud, mostly inciting laughter from the others as she took another swig of a beer that she wasn’t quite old enough to drink.

“Historia is,” Armin cringed at another yell from Ymir, turning his head to look at Jean from his hand, “at home for winter break.”

“Oh, Jean baby! You haven’t met the others have you?” Hanji’s voice was loud, and a little off; Jean was pretty sure that whatever colorful thing she was drinking was a little slutty. “You have Aurora over here for a teacher right?”

“Auro—woman say my name right!” Auruo slammed his cup down on the table, cringing as he bit the inside of his cheek.

Hanji cackled, gesturing to the ginger woman. “That lovely lady you see with _Auruo_ is Petra, who for some reason I can’t fathom has decided to date him.”

“Hanji, be nice,” The ginger, Petra he reminded himself, gripped the dishwater blond’s chin and pressed another kiss to his cheek, “I just think he’s so darn cool.” Auruo chuckled, and by the way his hand drifted to rest on her stomach, Jean was certain they were a little more than just dating.

“And this is—” Hanji gestured toward a woman with short blonde hair and blue eyes.

“I’m Nanaba.” She smiled, standing up to reach across the table to shake Jean’s hand. She was fit, in a loose fit sweater and black leggings, and the brunet was pretty sure he saw glitter on her skin and a bulge in her pants that he had no intention of questioning. “Mike’s girlfriend.”

Jean nodded and smiled, shaking her hand and turning to his mythology teacher. “What, did you swoon her with your knowledge of Zeus?”

Mike smiled contentedly, wrapping a hand around Nanaba’s waist as she sat back with him. “She’s a dancer at the bar I tend part-time.” The smirk on his lips as he sipped his drink was one of pure satisfaction.

“Wait…so my mythology professor…is dating a stripper?”

“Dancer. _Dan-cer._ I don’t do that whole shove your grubby dollar bills into my thong shit.” She smirked at him, and Jean was pretty certain that she could take him with a hand tied behind her back. “I just dance,” her eyes glimmered, “sexually.”

Things settled into an odd noisy-quiet, with Hanji and Erwin arguing loudly, her husband tugging on her arm and worriedly telling her not to argue with their boss, advice she aptly ignored. Ymir had shifted to sit on the table, and her drunken depression had at some point shifted into boisterous laughter. Levi and Eren were mostly keeping to themselves, talking quietly; Eren with his fingers gently ghosting over the marks Levi tried so hard to hide, bringing a small smile to the raven’s lips. The two older couples were laughing amongst themselves, Nanaba quickly pushing more food toward the short, ravenous woman; Jean was pretty certain that Sasha’s pout was over the food that was being consumed by someone other than herself.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere but here.”

Jean jolted, turning to see a small, maybe even sad, smile on Armin’s lips. He shook his head softly. “Just not used to all this, I guess. We never really celebrated New Year’s.” He shrugged, sipping on his now-tepid drink.

“Want to go somewhere else?” There was something in the blond’s voice, something telling Jean that he was offering to go with him.

_Yes. Anywhere but here. Anywhere with you. Just you. Just us._

Jean shook his head again, pasting a fake smile on his face. “Nah,” He gestured with his drink toward the forgotten TV, “It’s almost midnight, after all.” His eyes drifted down the drink in his hand, as if he’d forgotten the eyes watching him, calculating. _There is no us, idiot._

Armin smiled, his eyes scrunching up and his blond hair swaying as his looked from the TV to Jean. “Well, I guess that’s true. Wouldn’t want to miss the midnight kiss right?” His smile turned into an almost imperceptible wink as he turned back to the TV.

_Wait what—did he just—_

“Just a couple minutes guys!” Connie grinned, pulling out a few beers for any who wanted them. The few that had drinks brushed him off, with the exception of Ymir gladly taking another, Petra refused and continued drinking water, and both Jean and Armin turned down the offer.

It was odd the way everyone seemed to drift to their feet, as if pulled by some invisible strings, as the countdown began. Ymir remained on the table, but was tall enough that it didn’t seem to matter. Little Petra had climbed into the booth, Auruo’s arm wrapped around her hips. Jean snickered as he caught Levi pulling Eren to his feet, the latter having tried to get away with sitting on his knees on the bench to try and be closer in height to the other.

“Seven, six, five—” Jean mouthed the words, no sound coming out of his mouth. He wasn’t the only one not paying attention to the countdown, he couldn’t help but notice Armin keep glancing up at him, as if calculating an attack, watching closely. The brunet turned his attention to the countdown, coming in for the big finish. “two, one, Happy New –”

Jean’s words cut short as he felt warm hands grab the side of his face, pulling him down into a kiss. His eyes widened and cheeks flushed as his vision blurred into nothing but blond hair and blue eyes. Armin pulled back enough that the brunet’s eyes could focus, a smile on his lips and his hands on the other’s jaw.

_Armin…he just…_

Jean could do nothing but stare, surprise running through his veins and a mix of panic and pure elation muddling his thoughts. His lips worked but no sound came out, and it was then that something seemed to shift in Armin, his hands dropping from his cheeks and turning to catch Ymir in a hard, fast kiss, those posy pink lips smiling as he leaned over to the other side of her and pressing a lighter kiss against Petra’s lips.

_Oh he…_

Jean bit his lip hard, the faint taste of Armin still on them, and he swore he could still feel lips against his own. He took a few slow steps backward, shifting out of the booth and toward the door, not quite fast enough to miss the way Levi grabbed Eren by the shirtfront and pulled him into a hard, heady kiss, keeping the brunet from kissing anyone but him. He swallowed hard, ignoring the way his heart had taken up residence in his throat. His hands trembled, and he hesitated a moment before pushing the door open and thrusting himself into the freezing night.

 _He just…it didn’t mean anything…_ Jean clenched his fists, his body hot and his stomach sick and finding himself unsure what to do with his hands. _He was just…just kissing everyone._ Cold nipped hungrily at his skin, yet he felt nothing. Nothing but the sickening burn that seemed to be seeping through his veins. It didn’t matter anymore, he didn’t care if he got sick, or if Jack Frost decided to gobble him up and make him his own. _Anything’s better than this._ He took in a shaky breath, the cold air burning his lungs. Running his fingers back through his hair, he bit his lip until the skin gave, desperately trying to ignore the unshed tears that were burning at his eyes.

_It didn’t mean anything…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  i swear it will be happy eventually okay


	9. I SEE MY DEMISE, FROM BEHIND YOUR EYES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thanks to my [addy baby](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOrgasmicSeke/) ♦  
> practically planned the date for me, because lets face it i suck

 “Morning, sleeping beauty.”

Jean groaned, rolling onto his back, stretching his arms above his head and pointing his toes, his back arching and pushing a strangled moan from his lips as his fingers ran back through his hair. He blinked at the ceiling, pupils dilating and retracting as the haze over his mind cleared. His breath slowly pulled in the cool air of the room, the air from his cocoon suffocatingly hot. He couldn’t quite remember what he had been dreaming, it was just past the edge of his grasp, but judging by the uncomfortable tightness in his briefs, it wasn’t hard to figure out.

“Are you going to actually get out of bed today?” Armin’s voice pushed through his thoughts again, clearly the one that had woken him. And more than likely the same he had been dreaming about.

Jean cringed at his voice, his words. He had more or less stayed in bed since the New Year’s party. It wasn’t really all that out of character for him, to spend hours upon hours on his laptop watching shows or working on his art. Even so, the brunet knew that wasn’t really what was happening. Easier to hide.

“Yeah, just gimme a minute.” Sighing to himself, Jean sat up, runniing his fingers through his hair and suppressing a shiver as the chill air hit his bare chest.

Things between them had been awkward since Armin had kissed him. No, not awkward. _Strained_. Jean had noticed it, noticed the way Armin averted his eyes, the way he always seemed uncertain, the way they spent most of their time in silence when Eren wasn’t around. He also knew it was his fault, knew that he had pulled away, had been over-thinking it, and think about it too much. He had nearly chewed through his lip with anxiety, his hair starting to think it was meant to stand up every which way from him running his fingers back through it.

“So, what’s your plan for the day, sunshine?” Jean glanced over at Armin, pulling on a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt. He gave him a quick smile when the blond held out a cup of hot tea. It wasn’t his preferred drink, but the warmth on his palms and the aroma wafting up with the steam was nice in the cool mornings.

“Last day of break…” Jean mumbled more to himself than Armin, mulling over his thoughts. Mostly he wanted to crawl back into his cocoon and sleep for a few more centuries. Stretching over to his pile of things, a few cards and his wallet, he fingered the giftcard Eren had given him thoughtfully. “Hey, Armin, you wanna go out with me?”

Armin choked into his mug, throat closing as he let out a sputtering cough. He choked down another cough, taking a few sips to ease his throat before he wiped his lips, looking up at Jean with wide blue eyes. His stomach was doing the fucking cirque du soleil, and if his sudden lack of breath meant anything they were using his lungs for silks.

“I just mean, I have this card and we could go spend the day out or something?” Jean held the card between two fingers, watching Armin carefully. “You okay?”

Armin waved him off, cheeks flushing at his mistake. “Y-yeah, sorry, wrong pipe.” His voice was hoarse, but at least it covered the disappointment he felt. Taking a sip of his tea, hoping it would steel his voice, he pasted a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes on for Jean. “Sounds great, Jean.”

_He’s lying._ Jean grinned back at him, suddenly wishing he couldn’t read people at all. “It’s a date!” He paused midway through standing, looking at Armin, whose cheeks were still tinged red. “Well, I mean, not an actual date. Not like a _date_ date.” _Only in my head…_

The blond smiled and shook his head slowly. “Let’s go before you hurt yourself with your idiosyncrasies and heteronormative struggles.”

“Yeah, let’s—wait what?”

* * *

The walk to the Karanese Mall took less time than Jean had expected. It wasn’t close like the café, but they had been smart enough to build it within walking distance of the campus. And he made a point of saying so, as if that was really some sort of riveting conversational point. Armin had just hummed his acknowledgement, quirking an eyebrow as he pulled most of his hair back into a ponytail. They had been silent the rest of the trip, awkwardly avoiding each other gazes, tugging at their coats and jackets and pretending that it was just unseasonably hot for January and that the heat had nothing to do with their shared presence. 

“So uh…where to first?”

Armin opened his mouth to answer, pausing at the grumble of Jean’s stomach, and whatever he was going to say came out as a small laugh. “Uh, why don’t we stop and grab a coffee and breakfast? They have lots of restaurants here right?”

Jean shrugged, grinning awkwardly. “Yeah, but no need for that…” He trailed off, sniffing curiously, smiling. “I smell funnel cake.”

The blond rolled his eyes, and it took no time at all to find the stand that had funnel cakes, donuts, hotdogs, and coffee. Jean walked along happily, picking apart the fried sweet dough, trying his best not to cover himself in powdered sugar.

“You’re like a kid.” Armin just let out a little laugh, sipping at his cappuccino, careful not to drink Jean’s instead. He rolled his eyes at himself; it wasn’t like it mattered – they were drinking the same thing. But, after the kiss… _Maybe he thinks I’m gross…_

Jean only crinkled his nose at him, finishing his pastry and tossing the plate into a nearby trash bin. He pouted as his attempts to wipe the powdered sugar dusting his front only seemed to smear it in. “Yeah, well, where do you wanna go?” He averted his eyes, mouth still full of sweet cake, realizing he didn’t exactly have a plan, or even any idea what Armin was in to.

Armin shrugged, tucking his free hand into his coat after handing off Jean’s drink to him. “You’re asking me? It’s your money.” His blue eyes drifted to his cup, focusing on it and avoiding Jean.

“Wait, are you mad at me?” Jean stopped in his tracks, grabbing Armin’s sleeve and tugging him to a stop with him.

The blond looked up at him, his body tense and still wanting to pull away. “I’m not mad, I just thought—” He averted his eyes, brows furrowed and lips pressed together.

_Is he...is he pouting?_ “…Armin?”

“It’s nothing, Jean.” He pulled away, turning to look around. They stood in silence, awkward and heavy. Jean was on the edge of calling it quits and taking Armin home when he heard him gasp. “There! I want to go there!”

“What? …There..? What’s that?” Jean turned, following the blond’s gaze up to a stupidly large building that had big fancy letters reading _Castle Utgard_.

“I heard about it on the radio while I was at the library,” he tugged at Jean’s sleeve, eyes still staring up at the building. “It’s supposed to be this huge clothing shop. But, it’s not all regular clothes. They have all these different period clothes, and clothes from different shows,” He grinned up at him, “Even anime. So can we go? Can we?”

Jean looked up at the store, cringing at the ideas of spending hours trying on clothes. But then he looked down at Armin, who was grinning up at him with excited blue eyes and practically _begging_. He was fucked; he already knew he couldn’t say no to him. “Okay, okay, let’s go.”

“Yes!” The word was almost a yelp, Armin dragging him to the store.

Golden eyes widened as they stepped into the store, assaulted by a chilled breezed that was an odd mix of new clothes, false air conditioning, and incense. It was bigger than he had expected, even for how tall the building it was; with its own elevator and escalators and three—no, four – floors. The main floor seemed to be the more basic, modern clothes. Before he could even take a moment to start looking around, Armin had grabbed his wrist and was pulling him into the elevator.

The world shut off, the inside of the elevator stuffy and heavy with lingering scents of previous occupants. His hands gripped tight to the rail as it started to move, Armin’s face practically pressed to the glass.

“Not a fan of elevators?” Blue eyes turned toward him, filled with concern and a hint of amusement.

“Heh, yeah, not really. It’s just too…trapped.” The elevator dinged, Jean practically pushing himself off the wall and out the door, relatively fresh air hitting his face.

“You should’ve said something. Well, I guess I didn’t give you much of a chance.” Armin smiled softly up at him. “We can take the escalators down, ‘kay?”

Jean let out a light chuckle. “Not a whole lot better,” he scratched his head awkwardly when Armin looked at him questioningly. “It’s stupid, but ever since I was a kid I had this thought the escalators were going to catch my shoelace or my pants and pull me in and gobble me up.”

Armin stopped in his tracks, blinking silently at Jean before finally laughter bubbled up from his chest. “Oh, god, Jean. That’s adorable!”

Jean felt his cheeks grow hot, puffing them out and pressing his lips together in a petulant pout. “Shuddup!” Turning away, he walked away into the themed clothing.

“Jean, wait! I’m sorry, Jean!” Armin ran after him, stumbling through his laughter. Eyes blurry with laughter, the blond stopped as he bumped into the other, the brunet stumbling a few steps forward. “Jean, why’d you stop?” He peeked around Jean’s arm, close enough to feel his body heat. “Renaissance?”

“Okay, that is pretty awesome.” Jean was staring up at a set of mannequins; a female in her large, over-the-top ornamental gown, and a male in leather from head to toe. Leather boots, leather leggings, a leather tunic. It was all black, even its sword.

“Hm? Black knight maybe?”

Jean shrugged, walking around with eyes devouring all of the costumes, fingers trailing along the clothes hanging from the racks. “Dunno. Not overly well-versed on all this, but I’ve always loved the renaissance and medieval and all that shit. The corsets and the leather and the swords and the art and colors it’s just…yeah. I love it all. Well… I mean minus the tights.”

Armin smirked, _squeezing_ behind Jean, brushing against him. “Oh, I don’t know, I bet you’d look great in tights.”

“Oh yeah – what.” Jean blushed, body stiffening as he turned to look at Armin, who was already pulling things off the shelves.

Once they had begun looking, Armin quickly took charge. He picked things off the shelves, eyes lit up and a grin usually on his face. They had gone up and down and all over the store, into the different sections. In each, the blond just smiled and piled more onto Jean.  After the brunet managed to knock over a display, much to Armin’s amusement, the blond finally urged them toward a dressing room. They had ended up in the men’s section, in the suits, and were lucky enough to basically have the changing area to themselves, but for an employee piddling around in case they needed help getting a fitted suit.

“Uh…okay...here!” Armin pulled out a few things and pushed them onto Jean before disappearing into his own changing room.

“I look like a douche.”

“Lemme see!” Armin was smiling, leaning up against the arm of a leather sofa in a pair of white skinny jeans and a white long sleeved shirt that buttoned up the right upper half of the chest. Jean was pretty sure that was a girl’s shirt, but he wasn’t about to argue.

“There, see. Douche.” He slouched his shoulders, unamused as he shifted in the skinny jeans and tight lavender shirt with a low v-neck. “A purple v-neck…really?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Armin looked up at him, and Jean noticed that little glint of mischief he had been seeing a lot lately. “It brings out your eyes, and the cut,” He smirked, running his long fingers along the curve of Jean’s jaw, “You have such a nice jawline, shirt goes great with it.” He pulled his fingers away, leaning back against the couch. “Skinny jeans though…yeah might not have been my best choice for you.”

Jean swallowed hard, his skin still tingling where Armin had touched. “Y-yeah well, I’m getting out of this shit, I feel like a douche.” _I may not be able to rock skinny jeans but fuck do I want to grab your ass and just—_

“Here, try this!”

Jean had barely shut the door to the changing room when a pile of clothing was avalanching onto his head.  “What the hell is this?”

“Sir, I noticed you only had bits and pieces of the renaissance period clothing. I took it upon myself to put together a set for each of you.”

Jean rolled his eyes at the employee’s accent, bit too snobby for such a public place like this. “Yeah, thanks, Alfred.” He heard Armin’s snicker from the room next door, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Just put it on, Jean. He got me one –oomph!—too, so we can match!” Armin giggled at himself, glad that the changing rooms were sturdy enough that he didn’t break anything, satisfied as he heard clothes rustling from the brunet’s changing room.

“You can’t be serious. Armin, get the fuck out here.”

“What’s the matter, Je—oh my god.” Armin had only peeked around the doorway, now doubled-over with laughed as he eyed him.

“Yeah, get out here, sunshine. I’m certain you aren’t innocent in all this. Lemme see you.” Jean crossed his arms over his chest, frown deepening when Armin stepped out in an intricate, light green robe with a long hood that nearly touched the ground. “Are you fucking kidding me!? Why am I the freaking jester and blondie over here gets to be a fucking mage!?” Jean turned to the employee, jabbing a finger at Armin.

“Cleric.” Armin winced, trying not to laugh as he looked at Jean in his brightly colored tights and a tunic that wasn’t quite large enough to cover what he was packing.

“I thought it was…fitting.” The corner of the employee’s mouth quirked as he fought back a smile.

“I knew it! You guys are in on this together!” Jean pressed his lips together, turning on his heel and slamming the door shut behind him.

“I was right about the tights, though. You look good in them.” Armin’s voice carried through the slats in the door, and Jean looked into the mirror and watched as his cheeks and ears lit up bright red.

“Fuck you, I’m not coming out.” He knew he was being a kid, finding the tunic and tights frustratingly difficult to get out of. Obviously he’d have to eventually come out, but not before he at least made him sorry for making him look like an ass.

The room eventually grew quiet, rustling of Armin presumably changing into his normal clothes in the room next door, followed by him murmuring something to the employees, and then distancing footsteps. Then nothing. Silence, but for the quiet orchestral music that was leaking from speakers throughout the store.

“…Jean?” Armin’s voice was quiet, but close. Jean could see his feet from under the door, he was leaning back against the wall between the rooms. “Jean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad, really…”

“I’m not mad,” Jean sighed, sitting on the shitty excuse for a bench in the corner of the room, “just embarrassed, I guess.” He bit his lip, teeth clanking on the metal stud; why was he admitting that?

Armin smiled, his head thumping back against the partition. “Heh, I just wanted to see your ass in tights.”

The room was silent again, before Jean snorted, spilling into laughter. “Shut up, you liar.” It wasn’t even that funny, but he was laughing and Armin was laughing, and he couldn’t deny the way the heavy atmosphere lifted with just that. It was enough that he poked his head out of his dressing room, only to see Armin smiling and holding a suit in his hand.

“Last one?”

Jean sighed, reaching out and taking the suit. He’d never been fond of them, especially button-ups and ties. He always felt they were stifling and made him look like a dork; a dork in a penguin suit. Yet, here he was, changing into the suit the blond had picked out. He didn’t even try lying to himself anymore; he was doing this purely to make Armin happy.

“Show me?” Armin’s voice was soft, as it had been since Jean had acted like a shit.

_Did I upset him? Way to fucking go, Jean._ “Do I have to?”

Armin chuckled, moving away to lean against the couch casually. “Yes.”

Jean sighed and took a steeling breath, pushing open the slatted door. He watched as Armin stood at full attention, blue eyes widening and perfect pink lips opening into a silent ‘oh.’

“I look stupid.” He mumbled, fiddling with the cuffs. He had never worn something this fancy, and felt so…odd. Armin had apparently enlisted the help of the tailor at some point, as he had found a suit that seemed to fit Jean’s form perfectly. It was simple; black pants, black jacket, even a black shirt. But the tie, which left the brunet feeling strangled, was a vivid crimson that stood out against the suit. It was fitted nearly perfectly, leaving him looking nothing less than sleek.

“Wow Jean…” Armin’s expression shifted, eyelids lowering over once wide-eyes, his tongue slowly running along his lips as he sauntered over to Jean. His movements were slow, languid, deliberate; running his hands up the brunet’s chest, under the guise of adjusting the collar of the suit-jacket.

“Y-yeah, I know, I look like a dork, okay,” He shrugged, feeling his chest heating up and trying to look anywhere but Armin. And yet, no matter what he did he was drawn back to those blue eyes that were gazing up at him with…what was that? Hunger? He felt like the rabbit staring into the eyes of a wolf.

“Not at all, Jean.” Armin looked up at him, biting his own lip as his long fingers tugged on Jean’s tie. “I think you look amazing~”

“O-oh I uh well uh,” Jean could feel himself blushing, his body growing hot. _And fuck why did he have to look at me like that why the fuck are we so close and why do I have to turn into an illiterate craphole when he does this._ “Thanks.” He smiled, forcing himself to look away.

“Yes, well,” Armin let go of his tie, turning away. “You should buy it.” He smiled over his shoulder at him, back to the Armin he was used to seeing. “Why don’t you get changed, I’ll go get some food.” He pulled out his phone, checking the time. “Wow, yeah, no wonder I’m starved. We can take something back to the dorm?”

Jean could barely nod his assent before Armin had left the changing area. He sighed, turning to look at himself in a mirror. He was alone, and he felt like an idiot. _I look like a fucking dork_. His fingers gently ran along the length of the tie, mind drifting back to the way the blond had tugged on it, eliciting a shiver.

He was halfway through paying for his things, dipping into money he had saved up from his summers during high school, when his phone kweh!ed from his pocket. He smiled at the man who he would forever call Alfred and gathered his things.

**[SUNSHINE 7:43 PM] Klorva. Almost done. Wait for me?**

Jean rolled his eyes at the message; like he was really going to just leave Armin there?

[ **JEAN 7:45 PM] Be there in a few.**

It didn’t take long for him to find Klorva on the directory, a small café that was a bit higher end than the Outside The Walls café. He had never heard of it, but apparently Armin had, as he came out with a large paper bag and a grin on his face. When Jean looked into it curiously, all he saw was a lot of foil, all the carry-out containers had been wrapped in it to keep warm.

Neither said much on the way back the dorms, but this time it was a comfortable silence. They didn’t need to say anything, just enjoyed the crisp air in their lungs and the way the crimson sky seemed to devour the world. Armin seemed content as he followed Jean up the stairs toward the dorm, watching him curiously as the brunet didn’t stop on at their room.

“Uh, Jean?” Armin looked at him confused, pointing to their room.

“Roof?” He smiled, pushing the door at the end of the hall open and waiting for Armin to follow; he did.

“Rooftop dinner?” Armin smirked, following Jean and sitting next to him near the edge of the roof; far enough to be safe and stifle the noise pollution, but close enough to see the sun dying on the horizon and the purple of twilight seeping through the sky. “Pretty good ending to a ‘date’, isn’t it?”

Jean blushed, glad that this time he could blame the cold. “I just thought it’d be a nice change to the dorm. We can go back if you’d prefer—”

Armin held up a hand, shaking his head as he began to pull out the boxes, pulling off their foil armor. With a satisfied hum, he opened the container and was pleased to see steam wafting up from the lasagna. It seemed both meals had stayed hot, and he grinned as Jean took a bite, approving of the food.

“So…” Jean pushed around a chunk of meat before popping it into his mouth. “What’s the deal with the book?”

“The book?” He looked confused before it dawned on him, and he smiled softly. “Ah, _the_ book.” He shrugged, taking a bit of garlic bread. “It was my grandpa’s, he read it to mom a lot when she was a kid and as she kept reading it as she grew up. She was just…enamored by it,” He smiled, and the way his eyes seemed to light up Jean guessed she wasn’t the only one. “It was her favorite; she read it over and over until the corners of the pages were worn. She was so in love with the idea of this far off land, that wasn’t so far off y’know? That’s actually how I got my name. The main character?” He paused, noticing Jean’s knowing look. “Yeah, you guessed it. Armin.”

He smiled to himself, fork stilling in his hand. “Dad used to tell me, I don’t know how many times, he’d say that – well, it was a really hard birth for Mom. That’s why she didn’t have any more kids after me…she almost died. But Dad, he always told me that after I was born Mom was barely conscious and pale and they didn’t know if she was gonna make it. And Dr. Jaeger gave me to Mom, and Dad said she just smiled, and brushed over my hair – I was born with long blond hair – and I just smiled up at her, no tears, no fussing, and tears in her eyes she looked right at me and said “Armin” before she slipped into unconsciousness.”

Jean smiled at him, taking a bite of his lasagna as the warmth of Armin’s happiness seeped into him. “So that’s it then? Your mom liked it so you liked it? I got the impression your grandpa was a bigger influence on you.”

Armin nodded, his expression slowly sipping into sadness. Jean bit his lip, immediately regretting saying anything. He had ‘lost’ his dad when he was younger, but never anything like what Armin had gone through.

“When I was young… like ten?” He turned toward Jean, as if he was going to be able to answer the question. “Mom and Dad, they went on a trip. They were so excited, told me they’d be back in a couple weeks, they were going to see the world!” Armin smiled sadly, closing the mostly empty container and pulling his knees to his chest. “They got in a wreck on the way to the airport, dead on impact.” He shivered, and Jean noticed the way his cheeks and nose were red and his breath puffed out.

Without saying a word, he shrugged out of his coat. He hadn’t realized just how much the temperature had dropped since the sun dipped out of the sky. Carefully, Jean draped his coat, still carrying his warmth, around Armin’s shoulders. The blond flinched, as if he hadn’t realized what was happening, before relaxing into the warmth.

“Jean, no, it’s fi—”

“Take it, I’m okay.” Jean shook his head, smiling and silently happy that he had worn a second, long-sleeved, shirt.

Armin nodded solemnly, pulling the jacket close around him, eyes focused out on the horizon. “I stayed with grandpa after that. I loved grandpa, he had always been there, so…it was easier than you’d think. But I missed them, _so much_. Every night, I’d cry and cry and cry. I’d cry until I was too exhausted to even stay awake. When we got boxes of my parents’ things a few weeks later, I found the book. I sat there for hours, just staring at the cover, touching it and I don’t know…maybe I was hoping somehow Mom and Dad would come back.” He shrugged, a movement that was barely even noticeable and his voice came out a whisper. “They didn’t.”

He sniffled, wiping the back of his hand against his nose and Jean realized he was crying. The brunet winced, wrapping an arm around Armin’s shoulders and was surprised to find him leaning into his chest. Blue eyes, filled with unshed tears, looked up at him, a small smile on reddened lips.

“Every night after that, grandpa would read that book to me. _Every night._ It didn’t matter how tired he was, or how he needed to mourn the loss of his daughter – and looking back, it must have been harder than he’d ever tell me. But no matter what, he’d read to me every night until I fell asleep. Even if it meant reading the entire book.” He smiled to himself, nuzzling against Jean’s chest, feeling his tears dry on his cheeks. “Grandpa was my everything after that, everything I aspired to be. No matter what I wanted to be, who I liked, it didn’t matter. He was happy as long as I was happy. I think maybe he’s the one who taught me to accept people, and the one who made me love books.” A small chuckle pushed from his lips at that last bit.

Jean didn’t know what to say; what _could_ he say? His mom was alive, and she was his everything. His dad had left when he was a kid, and he had grown without him and if he saw him he knew without a doubt he’d be trying to knock a few teeth out. He couldn’t relate, couldn’t say anything. All he could do was hold Armin, try to be some source of solidity and warmth against the pain that he had inadvertently freed.

And so he did. He sat with him, in silence, until the sniffling stopped and Armin’s breathing returned to normal. It was cold, his fingers were numb, and yet, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but there.

“Thank you.”

Jean flinched, the words soft and almost inaudible and he was certain he had heard them wrong. “Pfft, for what? Making you relive that?”

Armin shook his head, and Jean was pretty sure he was smiling. “For _letting_ me relive it.” He looked up into golden eyes, his own unsure, but he smiled as he leaned up and kissed Jean’s cheek.

Jean blushed, his stomach churning as it seemed to do more often than not when he was around Armin. All he wanted was to bury his fingers in his hair and hold him close and press their lips together. To kiss him hard and kiss him gently and kiss him slowly and kiss him with all the hunger he had inside of him.

But then his mouth happened.

“Armin…why did you kiss me on New Year’s?” _What are you doing!? Why the fuck would you ask that!? What the fuck do you plan to do you dumb cunt what if he doesn’t give you the answer you want? Or worse, what if he does!?_

Blue eyes looked up at Jean, doe eyes that looked like they were staring down the barrel of a gun. He could feel the panic well up inside him, feel his hands begin to tremble, and read the pleading in those golden eyes plain as day.

_Pleading for what? What do you want, Jean?_ “What do you mean?” He smiled, trying not to falter. “It was New Year’s – you know, New Year’s kiss?”

_Oh…_ Jean could feel his heart sink, settling like concrete into the pit of his being. “Ah – just the tradition. Kiss everyone.” He laughed mirthlessly, rubbing his hands over his mouth. “I guess I just thought—hoped—maybe it – nevermind, it’s stupid.” Jean smiled sadly, feeling the familiar burn in his eyes that he refused to acknowledge. He pushed to his feet, running his fingers back through his hair and trying to occupy anxious hands. “Uh, I’m just gonna go back to the room. I’ll, um, I’ll see you later, Armin.”

“O-okay…”

Jean didn’t really wait for a response, moving down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him. He grit his teeth and ignored his phone as it kweh!ed at him. It didn’t take long to get back into his room, and he wondered why no one else much used the roof. Not that it mattered; he doubted he’d ever be able to stomach going up there again.

He didn’t waste any time in collapsing onto the bed, curling around what was his cocoon of blankets. He just wanted to sleep or disappear or stop feeling. His eyes fell on the bags in the doorway – he didn’t even remember grabbing them on the way back down but apparently he had.

_I guess I can always return them…_

His phone kweh!ed again, and he groaned as he pulled it from his pocket and unlocked the screen. Two new messages.

**[MCDOUCHEBAG 9:32PM] don’t wait up for me. have fun** **(** **눈** **‿** **눈** **✿)**

Jean shook his head _. Idiot._

**[SUNSHINE 9:14PM] Bert’s back.**

Jean stared at his phone, reading the message over and over. As if there was some hidden code buried in those two words. He felt his stomach sink further, realizing what that meant. His thumb moved, hovering over the screen as he warred with himself whether or not he wanted to answer.

**[JEAN 9:34PM] Awesome. Least you won’t have to share a bed anymore ^^**

**[SUNSHINE 9:35PM] I’m sorry.**

Sorry? What was he sorry for? What did he have to be sorry for?

_What? Sorry for being a good person? For trying to be your friend and have a good time? For being fucking normal like everyone else? Sorry that I fucking fell for you when I knew I shouldn’t and knew it would hurt and knew I shouldn’t have let myself think of you that way?_

Jean curled into himself, tossing his phone onto the table and trying to ignore it. Ignore the messages. Ignore the pictures. But it didn’t matter, what were pictures when there were memories? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking.

Thinking of Armin. Of all the time they had spent. Of the way his brows furrowed when he fell asleep against his chest. The way his eyes lit up when Jean laughed at something he said. The way his laughter spilled from his lips and had a way of making this whole, chaotic mess of a world something better.

Jean bit his lip, pushing himself off the bed and trying to stop thinking of the blond. He got a drink, went to the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face. Determined to sleep away everything, he pushed his jeans to the floor and crawled back into his bed. He buried his face in his blankets, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. Futile effort, that.

_Of fucking course._

It smelled of him. The entire dorm reeked of him. Sure, it also reeked of Eren and himself, but they were constants. Armin’s scent was different. Familiar and comforting and exciting and undeniably Armin.

Jean couldn’t escape him, thoughts of him. Remembering the way he brushed against him. The way he looked up at him like he wanted to _eat_ him. The way his hands roamed over his chest and tugged on the tie and slim fingers teased his jaw.

And fuck did he want those hands all over his body. He could feel his body heating up at the thought. The thought of Armin controlling him, touching him. The thought of kissing those perfect lips, of Armin kissing back. The thought of _tasting_ him.

_Shit…_

He cringed as he felt himself growing hard. He didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop imagining Armin. Imagining it was the blond’s hand pushing his briefs down. He wrapped his fingers around his cock, letting out a shuddering breath as he began stroking himself. His mind drifted back to Armin, to those perfect lips, and the way he licked them.

_F-fuck…those lips…_ It didn’t take much for his imagination to slip to those lips wrapping around his cock, taking him into his throat and moaning around him. But it wasn’t enough, not anymore. _Shit, Armin~ Fuck I want to feel you in me. I want your cock in me, to feel you fucking me until I can’t walk. Fucking make me yours…_

Slowly his fingers slipped into his mouth, his tongue working its way over them as he tried to imagine what Armin’s dick must taste like. Panting, he reached around and pressed his finger to his entrance. It twitched and pulsed under his touch, and with just a little pressure he felt it sucking him in.

“Ugh…fuck..” His stroking slowed as he pushed his finger further inside him, trying to forget that there was no way this was enough. Trying to imagine what it was like to be full, to feel another inside him. Cautiously, he crooked his finger, brushing against that spot he had heard so much about.

Pleasure sparked through him, blinding and foreign. Almost painful. He panted, vision clearing for a moment before he bit into his lip, pressing against it again. His hips bucked into his hand, forcing a cry from his lips.

“F-fuck…fuck…it’s~” He was panting heavily, and fuck was he glad no one was here to see him like this. This needy, desperate mess that couldn’t fuck himself hard enough. His hand seemed to move faster on its own, cock aching with need for release as his finger pushed further into him, and rubbing desperately against that spot that rocked his hips and forced him to fuck himself.

“Armin…shit Armin…d-deeper, fuck m—”

He could feel the heat building, his cock dripping, ass clenching around his finger, and he was pretty sure he was drooling at this point. He knew he was moaning, but he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t shut the fuck up and couldn’t stop fucking himself. He was too close.

_S-so close…_

His hips bucked and he clenched around his finger, twisting his body to bury his face in his pillow as he tried desperately not to cry out.

“F-Fu… Armin~!!” His voice was muffled by the pillow, hips trembling and body pulsing around his finger as a familiar heat filled his palm. He lay there silently, panting heavily and ignoring the way his breath hitched when he pulled his finger from himself.

Clenching his fist, it only took minutes to come down from his high, realization of what he had done and who he had done it to hitting him hard.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh yeah im not sorry heh


	10. CAN THE LONELY TAKE THE PLACE OF YOU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i have this headcanon that Annie is a really incredible singer, but she wont sing for you unless she's very comfortable with you. Or drunk. Because she likes being stoic. okay yeah. shh.
> 
> okay for anyone who care, [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KAFvlknsT4U) and [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mk3V-iuhIX8) are the songs that are karaoke'd. And [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9YQPWqTnx4) is the song for the title and the end of the chapter and listen to it it, it will hurt you.
> 
> also im pretty sure im the only one who actually posts anything for it but i track the tag fic: secret oats
> 
> also HOLY SHIT TEN CHAPTERS okay that frightens me you don't understand i haven't something this long for 12 years like fuck

To say that things had been strained between Jean and Armin after the not-date would be an understatement. Jean had spent most of his time trying to stay friends considering he was best friends with the blond’s brother, and he still saw him weekly for tutoring, and daily in class. Most of his efforts went to pretending he didn't think about the genius whenever he fucked his own ass.

Armin, on the other hand, just kept texting him. Almost always when they had just parted.  Always the same text. ‘I’m sorry.’ Sometimes Jean was brave enough to ask what for, but Armin never replied to those.

“He—y,” Eren shuffled over to him, sitting in the empty seat next to him. Jean couldn’t help but sigh as he did; it hadn’t taken long before Armin had started sitting across the room with Eren.

“What is it, Eren?” He ran his fingers through his hair, tilting his head to look at his roommate. It wasn’t difficult to tell by the other’s behavior that he was going to ask an awkward favor of him.

“So since it’s cold as balls outside…” Jean just stared at him as he dragged out the question. “Well we were thinking maybe we’d stay in and watch movies?”

Jean licked his lips, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Is this your way of telling me Armin is coming over? You know you don’t have to ask, it’s not like he’s my ex.”

Green eyes looked at Jean knowingly before shaking his head. “It’s not that. Well, yeah, it is. Armin’s gonna be there of course. But uh…not just Armin.”

Jean felt his stomach clench and his mouth go dry and he was pretty sure his lungs had caught fire. Armin wasn’t coming alone? Armin was bringing someone? He was _with_ someone? _Not like you can say anything you dick it’s not like you guys dated he wasn’t yours._ “So…he’s bringing someone with him…?” He tried to swallow, finding it difficult with his sudden case of dry mouth. “Who?”

“Uhm…everyone.” Eren watched Jean carefully, and the taller male was pretty sure he must have visibly relaxed. “Why what’d you think? That he was bringing a _date_ over?”

Jean could feel his cheeks flush, Eren laughing at his reaction. _You dick maybe if you hadn’t made it sound like that!_ “I didn’t think that! I didn’t think anything! It doesn’t matter it’s none of my fucking business.” The brunet grumbled as he slammed his notebook closed, shoving it into the small messenger bag he pulled over his neck. “He can date anyone he wants.”

“Oh come off it, horseface,” Eren rolled his eyes, standing with him. “You’re so obvious I almost feel bad for you.”

Jean glowered at him, fists clenching and for the first time in a while he genuinely wanted to deck Eren. Before he could say anything, a smooth, stoic voice interrupted him.

“Will you guys get out of my fucking classroom.” Levi rolled his eyes and leaned back on his desk, watching as the few stragglers headed toward the door. “Jaeger, stay after. I need to have a word with you.”

Eren looked like a puppy getting praise the way his eyes lit up at the command. “Yes, sir.” He grinned to himself, and Jean rolled his eyes as he noted a smirk on Levi’s lips as he turned to clean his whiteboard.

“Gross.”

It hadn’t taken long to get back to his room, the wind nipping at his heels making him walk faster. He sighed and glanced around the dorm. Why did they have to come to his room? Everyone else had a dorm, too, and he knew they weren’t the only one with DVD capabilities. Hell, for the most part they had been given free reign of the commons area on the main floor of the dorm. He didn’t even care anymore, if he was honest with himself. It was all just…pointless.

Kicking off his shoes, he pushed his dirty clothes under his bed before plopping onto the mattress. All he wanted to do was sleep. And sleep he did. Jean wasn’t sure when exactly he drifted from hazy apathy into sleep, or how long he had slept, but the next thing he knew, there was a shadow looming over him and a stoic feminine voice.

“Aww isn’t he cute.”

Jean groaned, rolling over and blinking up at the short blond. “Annie.”

She let out a small chuckle, crossing her arms over her chest, and Jean noticed she was wearing a t-shirt and wasn’t sure why he found that so weird. “What, not gonna make yourself pretty for me?”

He groaned, pushing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head, looking down at the second shortest person he knew. “That’d be a waste considering you’re gay as fuck.”

“Pfft you’re one to talk.” She shared a grin with him as they headed toward the kitchen.

Jean wasn’t surprised to see the freckled girl, hair braided into pigtails, sitting at the island and picking at the chips. Mina wasn’t very outspoken, generally kind to everyone, and had somehow ended up as stoic Annie’s girlfriend. He smiled to himself, noting that she even wore Annie’s hoodie.

“Evening, Jean.” The raven smiled, sliding a glass of mountain dew over to him, he nodded thanks before climbing onto a stool.

“So where’s the rest of the village people?” Jean rubbed over his tired face, reaching out to take a few chips. Eren turned to answer, stopping midsentence as the door opened and people began to drift in. He wasn’t real surprised that everyone was there, considering they had become this sort of family. Clique, even, but Jean hated the word and its connotations.

They had done their best to bring extra pillows, even a few beanbag chairs, so that they could be comfortable. It was almost surreal, watching everyone pile around the TV, and he meant everyone.

Mikasa and Marco settled quietly into a beanbag chair. Springles sat on the floor, a bowl of chips between them and they seemed to care more about the food than any lovey dovey shit. Ymir had aptly pulled Historia down to lay on top of her, though from the blonde’s expression she didn’t seem to mind. Annie pressed her back against the underside of the island counter, Mina happily lying back against her between her legs. Jean couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he noticed Reiner and Bert mimicking Annie and Mina’s position from across the room, Reiner leaning down to kiss at Bert’s ears and neck.

Jean shifted awkwardly on his stool and watched as they finally stopped flipping through Netflix. _Ah, they settled for the gay angel._

“Kinda weird being the only ones not paired up.” Jean flinched at Armin’s voice, not realizing he had slid onto the stool between him and Eren.

“Hey, I’m not alone!” Eren protested, and Jean was pretty sure that if he could the kid would scream it from the rooftops that he was dating Levi. It’s not like they didn’t all know, even the Dean. It wasn’t illegal or even against school rules, but student-teacher relations weren’t exactly smiled upon.

“Uh, I’m sorry, I don’t see Mr. Pipsqueak of a pasta anywhere around here.” Jean laughed, dodging Eren swinging a hand at him. He tried to focus on that and ignore the way Armin’s laugh made his stomach twist and turn.

Their laughter died down and they turned to watch the so-obviously-gay-it-hurts team free will on their screen. Saturday night and they spent it in a huddled circle of gay watching reruns on TV. Jean couldn’t help but wonder if this was what everyone did, or if they were all just losers.

Historia let out a little squeak, shifting off of Ymir as the freckled woman’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She dug it out and swiped her thumb over the phone. She grinned at the message, tilting her head back and looking at everyone upside down.

“So, this is thrilling and all, but uhh, who wants to get smashed and be jackasses singing shitty songs in a way we’ll probably regret in the morning?” Ymir wiggled her phone, rolling over on to her stomach. “Karaoke?”

Reiner grinned, and was the first one to speak up. “We can take my van.”

“Why do you even have that thing?” Bert laid his head in his hands, embarrassed. “It’s like some fucking creeper van.”

The big blond chuckled, leaning close to his boyfriend’s ear. “You didn’t seem to mind it.” Bert blushed, mouth snapping shut as he pushed away from Reiner, embarrassed and nervous.

It hadn’t mattered much until now, though a few of the students had brought their cars back with them. Now they stood in front of a large black van, darkened windows and the one side door, side-by-side back doors.  There was rust growing around the wheel wells, but other than that it wasn’t too bad. Just creepy; especially with big, angry-looking Reiner driving. They piled in, ignoring the fact that there were only five seats in the back, and eleven of them; plus Bert and Reiner up front. Jean just hoped that they had sanitized the back after they were done, and tried to ignore the fact that somehow Armin had ended up in his lap.

The trip had gone surprisingly fast, mostly full of laughter and yelling and pushing and shoving. And Jean in the back trying to think of anything but the way the shitty shocks made Armin bounce in his lap. He couldn’t exactly grip the blond’s hips to hold him still. If he hadn’t already noticed, he definitely would then. At least jeans did a halfway decent job of hiding it when his genitals made an unwelcome appearance.

Jean let out a sigh, thankful for the rush of cold air on his face as he tried not to waddle. He paused and looked up at the wooden plaque with the faded words _The Dancing Titan_ painted in white. He wasn’t surprised by the name, not really. A lot of places near the campus made a play off of the school’s mascot. He was surprised that it was this little hole-in-the-wall spot. Somehow, when Nanaba had told him she danced here, he had expected something…glowier.

He was surprised to find there wasn’t a doorman, and the bar was dark. Almost too dark to see, Jean realized. He blinked, hoping his eyes would adjust faster than they were. There were a few hanging lamps over the bar itself, a pedestal candle in the center of each table, and then there was the stage. A well lit stage. Or at least part of it was. The back half of the stage was darkened, though Jean noted the poles in the darkness, but the catwalk of the stage remained lit and currently occupied by someone attempting to sing _Total Eclipse of the Heart._

Pushing a couple tables together, they settled in. It was odd, and Jean couldn’t help but feel out of place; wasn’t exactly his scene. It didn’t take long to order. Annie, Mikasa, and Ymir ordered the largest long island ice teas they could. Bert and Reiner got a couple beers, Connie chiming in to get him one, too. Sasha had nearly fallen out of her chair when she jumped excitedly, ordering a mudslide. Mina and Historia ordered a strawberry margarita, Armin and Eren both opting for al tequila sunrise.  Jean just smiled when Mike finally got around to him.

“Uh, mountain dew?” Jean shrugged, and Mike looked at him questioningly. He never was one for more words than necessary. “Uh, designated driver.” Mike smiled with satisfaction, nodding.

“Okay, so how exactly did you get us in here and convince our mythology teacher to serve us drinks even though it’s a little less than legal?” Armin smirked, poking his straw through the orange-to-red of his drink, careful not to stir it too much.

Ymir grinned, sipping her drink. “Eh, I work here?” Everyone gave her some variety of surprised and questioning looks. “What? Why is that so surprising? I bus the tables a few hours a week, gotta have money to take my girl out!” She grinned, gripping Historia around her waist and pulling her close.

An odd noisy-calm settled over them. Jean couldn’t remember the last time they had all gotten together like this, just the students. They were all loud and obnoxious and he couldn’t help but laugh when Sasha nearly choked to death on her second mudslide. He could feel himself relaxing, just watching them.

It was nice, seeing everyone laughing and poking fun and sharing what happened over their breaks. He even started to forget the way that Armin’s laughter usually made him hurt and jealous. It didn’t matter anymore the way Mikasa sat on Marco’s lap and his hand roamed over her thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world. It really didn’t, and when Jean realized that, he couldn’t help but smile a little bigger and just let go and enjoy the night. He was here with Eren and Connie, who had wormed their obnoxious way into his best friend slots, and he was here with everyone and it was just a night to not care.

“—Ey An-nie!” Ymir pointed at the blonde with a straw, grinning. “Th—e stage is emp-ty!” Her grin widened more, her words slurred.

Jean just grinned and shook his head at the freckled girl; surely she didn’t actually think that Annie was going to sing karaoke.

“Pfft, Ann—ie,” Mikasa chimed in, singing her name, “I think that’s a challenge.”

The short blonde stood abruptly. “You know what, freckled Satan—” Annie’s voice was more or less steady, apparently holding her liquor a little better than the other two girls. At least as far as her words were concerned. She grabbed one of the shots from the center of the table, downing it in a cringing gulp before slamming it on the table. “Challenge accepted!”

Annie’s cheeks were flushed, as was her chest, and Jean was pretty sure he saw her stumble as she dragged Mikasa and Ymir onto the stage.

“Ye—ah! Ladies from the 104th!” Sasha yelled, almost falling out of the chair, Connie catching her mid-fall and tugging the more than a little drunk brunette back onto his lap.

Armin let out a small laugh and shook his head, hiding his face in his head. “Sasha, maybe you should refrain from announcing our school district to the bar?”

The meaning behind the blond’s words were lost on her, as she happily dug into the large bowl of maraschino cherries that Nanaba had brought over to her. There weren’t many others in the bar besides them, a few regulars at most, but apparently karaoke night on Valentine’s Day wasn’t exactly busy. Eventually the plastered trio managed to get the song they wanted selected, and Jean was a little surprised to hear that twang of country through the speakers.

Annie aggressively grabbed the microphone from the stand, grabbing a small wooden box and climbing on top of it. She was still shorter than the other two, but at least they could share the mic now.

“Right now, he’s probably slow dancing with a bleach blonde tramp and she’s probably getting frisky.”

“Right now, he’s probably buying her some fruity little drink cause she can’t get shoot whiskey.”

The group cheered as Mikasa and Ymir started the song, watching Annie carefully as she hadn’t said a word, eyes closed and lips pressed tight. She grinned and pulled the mic to her lips.

“And he don’t know… _I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel-drive – carved my name into his leather se—ats. Took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, slashed a hole in all four ti—res_ , maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats…”

Annie’s voice was strong, clear, and beautiful, and surprised everyone. Well, almost everyone. Jean hadn’t missed the way Mina seemed to just enjoy the show, clearly she had been lucky enough to hear her girlfriend sing before.

More eye-catching was the way that Mikasa, even as she wobbled and the three nearly fell over, had the eyes of a demon, the way she was glaring at Marco, who looked more than a little scared. Rightfully, so. Jean and Connie couldn’t help the way their laughter burst from their chest, as they slapped his shoulders with false sympathy. If he had ever thought about straying, the demon that was Mikasa had certainly scared it out of him.

Jean and Eren quickly moved to the edge of the stage as the song died down. They were careful the help Ymir and Annie off the stage, the three girls way too drunk to trust to jump off the stage on their own. Marco had been right behind him, and Mikasa had jumped into his arms, attacking his lips as soon as he caught her. The table roared and Jean couldn’t help but snort as Marco staggered and stumbled and tried to make his way back to the table and pry her off of him.

“Well, get up there!” Armin shouted, grinning and waving Jean toward the stage. The brunet only held his hands up questioningly. “Don’t give me that, I know you can sing.” He was still smiling, reaching over the pat the stage as his chair was almost butted against it.

Jean knew he was trapped. He couldn’t say no to Armin on the worst of days, not to that smile or the way his eyes glimmered in the light. And now? The aura was exciting enough, there was no way he could say no. Not that he was given a chance; before he could answer, Eren and Connie had dragged him onto the stage.

The golden eyed boy was the only one of the three that was fully sober, Eren was the worst. Two tequila sunrises had made their way through his system and those green eyes were a bit glossed over and the german was louder than usual. He wasn’t at all surprised when Connie picked the song he did, the beat oddly loud after the country of the girls.

“If you got Jack in you cup go raise it up! If you ain’t got enough, go fill it up! I’m gon’ chase this whisky with patrón, I want a girl on my lap and a jägerbomb, I’m comin’ in hot – you heard me!”

“We only leave a pre-party to go and party some more. I’m already shit-faced before I walk in the door. This girl’s rubbin’ on my leg, I’ve never met her before and now she’s makin’ her way down to my gentleman’s sword—” Connie and Jean both stood back, staring in wonder as Eren commandeered the microphone, the words spilling from his mouth without a hitch. They couldn’t help but be astounded that he was slurring only moments ago but could rap without a problem. “We drink so much goose we turn it into geese, me and my crew fly a V through VIP. These bitches play my skin flute like they’re Kenny G!”

Jean and Connie grinned, coming in for the chorus repeat. They couldn’t help but laugh at how Eren tried to act cool and puffed up his chest whenever they said ‘jägerbomb.’ He couldn’t deny how much fun he was having, stumbling when Eren shoved the mic at him. Part of him panicked, and then he noticed the blond at the end of the stage, smiling up at them. At him.

He smirked, licking his lips and doing his best to channel his inner Charlie Scene. “I wanna feel you bounce, girl, go up and down. Take shots, won’t stop till I’m passin’ out. Girl, get down, you can have more. And you can shake your hips around on my man-sword.” He couldn’t help the way he bit his lip, winking charmingly at Armin, whose cheeks flushed at the implication.

After finishing the song, the boys stumbled off the stage, laughter spilled from their chests and leaving them breathless. They didn’t care if they looked like jackasses, they were having fun. Everyone was having fun. Even so, Jean kept glancing over at Armin, who blushed and looked away most every time at this point. He could only hope that was a good sign. Or at least he refused to let himself think of the other possibilities.

“Kids, I’m cutting you off.” Mike grinned at them, taking off his apron as he began to pick up their cups. “I’m closing shop. Jean, you got them?”

Jean nodded his assent, helping gather the cups.

“Hey…hey um…” Ymir swallowed slowly, brows furrowing as she tried to focus on words that wouldn’t come out.

“How about we go back and watch movies?” Historia chimed in, smiling and appearing sober enough. “I mean we have the commons room to ourselves, and they just moved in a bunch of couches and lounge chairs and stuff. I have some old movies we can watch. Just kinda spend the rest of Valentine’s day in the dark, quiet.” She tried not to tense up with anticipation as Ymir slid a hand up her thigh.

General consensus among them was that this was a great idea. They piled into the van, Jean in the driver’s seat. His fingers tensed on the wheel, Eren in the passenger seat eyeing him closely. Had green-eyes been fully sober, he might’ve pieced it together. Instead, he just asked his roommate to drop him off near an apartment complex. He didn’t explain, but Jean was about as sure as he could get that it was Levi’s apartment. He waited until he saw the short man open the door and let Eren in before driving off.

Armin had climbed out of the pile of drunks to slide into the seat next to him. His hands tightened more so, body tense and his stomach churning. Fuck, all he wanted was to stop the van and reach over and kiss those perfect pink lips and tell him everything he felt and thought and did and wanted. Instead, he remained silent as he parked outside of the dorms.

It was awkward, watching the couples pile around the room. Some more affectionate than others, though Marco and Mikasa had gone straight to his room. Jean wasn’t surprised, not after the way she had attacked him at the bar. He couldn’t help but smile softly when Historia brought out a few classics.

He tapped the case of _Roman Holiday_. “Good one.”

She smiled in return, popping it out of the case. He would have enjoyed watching it, honestly. He had always watched old black and white movies with his mom, and _Roman Holiday_ had been a favorite. But he had no intention of staying here with the others.

He swallowed hard, swallowing his pride and his fear as he headed up the stairs. He ran into Armin, and caught his wrist as he walked past. _Now or never._ He tugged him out of the staircase, waiting as Connie passed, Sasha tossed over his shoulder, drunk. He was a little surprised that he could carry her drunk weight, at least until he remembered seeing him fight in an MMA match one weekend. Connie wasn’t someone you wanted to fight.

“Is something wrong, Jean?” Armin’s voice was…odd. Jean couldn’t quite place it. Awkward, worried, uncomfortable?

“I just…” Jean shifted his weight between his feet, he was certain if he let them, they’d run away. “I was just wondering, um,” Taking a deep breath, he turned his full attention to the blond. _Twenty seconds of stupid bravery…_ “Do you want to go to a movie with me?” The words were blurted out, blue eyes staring up at him with surprise.

“Jean…do you… you mean…?” Armin’s cheeks were flushed and his hands trembled, and Jean was pretty sure the blond was feeling about the same as he was.

“Yeah. I just…I thought since everyone down there is pairing up…um maybe we could?” He scratched the back of his head, cheeks flushed and feeling awkward and trying to find something – anything – to do with his hands.

“Yes.”

Jean’s attention snapped back to Armin. His mouth worked but no sound came out, having to his lips and try a second time. “Yes?”

Armin smiled, a small nod. “Yes.” The brunet froze. He hadn’t been prepared for this. He knew how to handle rejection, but this? “Let me get my coat, I’ll meet you at the van?”

Jean nodded, taking a deep breath and trying not to lose his shit in the middle of the hallway. He made the short trip to his room to grab his coat. His hands were shaking and his mind reeling, and he felt like he was constantly fighting down a smile. This was happening. He had done it, he had manned up and he had asked Armin on a date. A real date. _And he said yes—fuck, he said yes!!!_

He took a deep breath, the air chilling his lungs as he leaned against the side of the van. Reiner had already given him the keys, and when he tried to ask he was waved off so he took it for permission. He’d have it back in a few hours anyway. He stood against the side of the van, jiggling a restless leg and staring up into the sky and wondering if Lady Luck was on his side. He waited. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty…

Swallowing hard, nose numb, he pushed the doors open into the commons room. He made rounds trying to ask if anyone had seen Armin. Well, asked who he could. Ymir was passed out, Annie and Mina were asleep in a recliner, and Sasha was drunk-munching. Connie and Historia had both said the same thing, neither had seen him.

_Maybe he passed out? Yeah, maybe he’s just a lightweight…_

“Hey, Bert—” His voice was barely above a whisper as he crouched by them. It was awkward, knowing that Reiner was just waiting for him to leave before his mouth was going to be attached to the gentle giant’s neck. “Sorry, have you seen Armin?”

Bertholdt looked up at him with worry, or sympathy was it? “Sorry, no. Here,” He dug a key out of his pocket, holding it out to him. “Just leave it unlocked.”

Jean nodded his thanks, and headed upstairs, taking them two at a time. He rapped his knuckles against the door. Nothing. _Please be passed out…_ Shaking hands made it difficult, but he unlocked the door and pushed it open slowly.

“Armin? You in here?” He flipped on the light. Empty. Immaculate and empty. He poked his head into each of the rooms, just to be sure. They were empty. His throat felt like it was closing in on him, suffocating him. It was difficult to breathe, and he felt himself getting angry. Easier to be mad than hurt.

His fingers slowly caressed the cover of a book. Books everywhere. _The library._ He didn’t know why he was so determined. Why he had to find him, to confront him. Would it hurt less? Would it do any good? Probably not, but he couldn’t stop himself. His mind was a haze of hurt and anger and disbelief and his reality was crashing around him. And then he was there. Standing outside the library.

It took all the strength he had to push both sets of doors open and enter the library. The heat hit him hard, stifling after the chill of outdoors. And there, sitting behind the counter was Armin. The blond stared at him with disbelief, lips parted and eyes panicked.

“Jean…”

The brunet kept his hands in his pockets, hoping to hide the way they trembled and shook. “You were going to stand me up.” Jean thanked whatever luck he had that when he was most upset, his voice was eerily even.

“Jean, I—”

“You could’ve just said no.” He had seen that look, he knew that look. He was right. Armin was going to hide in the library until Jean had given up and gone to bed. Maybe he wouldn’t have even come home that night. He furrowed his brows, closing his eyes tight and swallowing hard as he turned away from him. His eyes burned and he knew he’d be crying before he made it back to his room. At least Eren wouldn’t be there to ask any questions.

“Jean! Jean, wait! I’m sorry, Jean!”

He didn’t stop. Just clenched his teeth and swallowed down the nausea and tried to pretend that his entire body didn’t ache. It was stupid, hurting so much. It was stupid every time, and he had sworn to never feel this way again. And yet, here it was. Devouring his heart and seeping into his blood, the fire coursing through his veins and burning him from within. He wished with every part of his being that it would just consume him and he’d burn away into nothingness.

 _I should have kept it a secret…I never should have trusted you…_ He bit his lip until the tang iron assaulted his tongue, tears burning down his cheeks. _I never should have hoped…I’m a fucking idiot –fucking fuck! You could never – we could never – we were never…fuck…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so very sorry. so sorry.
> 
> also, my sister is going to be in town between the 1-9 of july, so the next update probably wont be until after that unless i manage to get the time.


	11. THIS ROSE HAS LOST ITS RED AND ITS PETALS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone is curious, [this is the playlist](https://play.spotify.com/user/1283566717/playlist/6yLmANx7xhKntkHC1DTjk1) for this chapter ehehahah oops
> 
>   
> i'm a terrible person

**[SUNSHINE 3:07AM] I’m sorry…**

Jean sighed, staring at his phone. It had been over a week since he had gotten that message, or any message, from Armin. He never replied to any of them. Most messages just resulted in him curling into himself, crawling into his cocoon and putting in his ear buds and blasting a collection of completely heartbreaking songs that left him wanting to cry or vomit or both and did absolutely nothing to mend the tear, and yet somehow dulled the pain.

He had also taken to commandeering the dorm kitchen. Growing up in a bakery, he knew how to make all those breads and pastries that left your mouth salivating and stomach screaming just from the scent alone. It was something, anything, to keep him busy, his mind focused on kneading the dough, on mixing the strawberries and sugar _just right_ to get the consistency he needed. Usually he left a mess of sweets for anyone who wanted them – though everyone but Eren had known to stay out of his way when he was in there.

Anything to drown out the world.

Not that it ever worked. Nothing ever made him forget. Made the pain stop. Everything burned, seared into his skin, boiling him from within. Every bit of bubbling laughter, every smack of lips pressed against a lover’s, every hushed word from behind closed doors that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

He heard them all, saw them all, took in everything. As if his senses were on overdrive. His pain roared and his apathy grew to the point that even Eren had begun to worry about him. Every day was a struggle to force himself out of bed – it just took too much energy. Too much caring that he just didn’t have any longer.

He just wanted to forget. Forget the way he had stammered and blushed. Forget the way that every word, every look Armin gave him left his body hot and confused and left him not knowing what to do with himself. Forget the way he had taken that chance and been _so incredibly stupid_ , and even thought that for once – just this once – things were going to work out. He might have a chance to be happy. Forget the way that Armin had looked at him…the way those blue eyes were so wide, so scared, the way his mouth worked but no sound came out as his brilliant mind fumbled, unable to come up with an excuse. A lie. Because what was there for him to say?

Armin had lied, had let him think there was something between them, a chance for something real. Something that Jean had told himself for so long he could never have. That if he ever felt it again, he’d have to hide it. His secret.

Jean bit his lip, squeezing his phone hard enough that the plastic creaked. _A secret that I had to be stupid enough to let him know…_ Golden eyes drifted over to the blond across the room, smiling and chattering with Bertholdt and Reiner.

He had stopped sitting next to Jean the first class they had after their split. It was an odd emptiness, the seat next to him. Sure, he had Connie and Sasha on the other side of him – he wasn’t alone, he had other friends. Honestly, he hadn’t realized that Armin had shifted his normal seat to be next to him in the first place. It was just something that had started happening. Jean couldn’t even be sure when.

He hadn’t even noticed at first, that Armin wasn’t sitting next to him. He hadn’t noticed anything at first. He was numb, and yet so overwhelmed with pain. It was confusing and suffocating and left him empty. Just going through the motions. It wasn’t until Connie had pulled him aside after a class and asked if they had had a fight that he had realized that the genius had moved.

It had left his stomach feeling like a concrete mixer, and he couldn’t quite reach to get the knife that found its way into his spine. It had hurt at first, that the blond seemed to ignore him. But it made it easier for him. Easier to decide to ignore Armin, to try and cut him out of his life. He honestly didn’t know how he’d tolerate being around him…wondered if he’d ever learn how to.

Eren had been supportive, or at least hadn’t been a jerk about it. Armin stopped visiting their room, though Eren was gone more times than not. Either with his boyfriend, or at Armin’s dorm. Jean didn’t really blame him, it was his brother after all. He was doing him a kindness by not hanging out with him in their dorm, but it in turn left him alone with himself. Alone with his mind.

“Hey, Jean?”

Jean sighed heavily, clicking the button on the side of his phone to return the screen to black, forcing his eyes to come into focus as he pushed off his desk and turned to see Eren. And Armin. His eyes only landed on him for a second, pulling away as he swallowed hard, not missing the way the blond had suddenly found something completely enthralling about the probably recycled carpet.

“What.”

Eren scratched the back of his head, a habit Jean was starting to wonder if he picked up from himself. “A bunch of us are going out – y’know, get some wings, watch the UFC match. You coming?”

Jean’s eyes flicked from Eren to Armin and back, not missing the way that those green eyes seemed to be pleading with him to come. “Eh, no thanks.” Eren’s look of concern only grew at the response, and Jean would have to remember to thank him later for being so patient with him. “Hey, I appreciate the invite,” He smiled, knowing it didn’t reach his eyes, and clapped Eren roughly on the shoulder. “I gotta pack, though. You guys have fun.” He didn’t wait for a response, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading out of the room, a short wave to Professor Smith before pushing through the doorway.

He hadn’t headed straight back to the dorm, assuming Eren would need to stop in to drop off his books before they left. Instead, he had made sure to stop by the café and pick up a bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a mountain dew to go. Historia had smiled at him, just starting her shift, and made sure to wrap his food in extra foil to fight the cold from spoiling the food. She had even tossed in a few snickerdoodles – his favorite – on the house.

“You look sad, Jean.”

Her statement was soft, but her eyes held genuine concern. He tried to smile, tried to pretend he was content. “What are you talking about? I’m fine.” He wasn’t.

Her smile softened, blue eyes looking up to him as she tucked her hair behind her ears, which aptly fell back over her face. “You can see it in your eyes. You look so…tired.” She wasn’t wrong. “And, well, Jean – I share an art class with you, y’know.” She paused, glancing around once more to see no one was nearby. “I’ve noticed the change. I’ve also noticed how often he’s in your pieces, somehow, someway.”

Jean swallowed hard, fingers crinkling the top of the paper bag. “Yeah, well…it’s nothing. I’m okay, Historia, really. Thanks for your concern.” He left a ten on the counter, gesturing with the bag as he turned toward the door. “Have a good break.”

It hadn’t taken long to get back to his dorm and eat his dinner. Or more, he didn’t really remember doing it. Just force of habit. Letting out a heavy sigh, he ran his hands back over his face, into his hair. Forcing himself to his feet, he tossed the empty wrappers in the trash, vaguely wondering how people stopped eating when they felt like shit. Seemed to be the only thing that made him feel just a touch better, even if it didn’t last long.

He dug his bag out from under his bed, shaking it aggressively as far from his body as he could – pretending that would completely deal with any spiders that may or may not have made it their new home. He didn’t even know where to start – hard to figure shit out when you didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t like he could just pack everything, though he had thought about it a few times. Just not coming back. The thought hadn’t last long, he could never stay in Trost. He had worked his ass off to get away from there, to get here.

_Where things would be better._ He let out a little, mirthless laugh.

It really hadn’t taken that long to pack. Not once he actually bothered to do more than just feel like it was all too much. He shoved his clothes into it, rolling them up and knowing his mom would probably bitch about wrinkles—but she could never deny it made them pack better. He had been careful to put his laptop between the piles of clothes, giving his baby as much protection as he could. The only thing left was his sketchbook.

The brunet stared at it, almost scared to pack it. Historia had been right, and he hadn’t even realized it. He flipped through the pages, and everything, every single piece, had something in it that was Armin. Some were purely him, obvious as could be. Some were as simple as that vaguely human-shaped thing in the corner with blond hair.

He sighed, shoving the book into the bag, zipping it aggressively, hurriedly.

_I’m so fucked._

* * *

The trip back to Trost had only taken a couple hours, opting to go ahead and pay for the plane ticket. He hadn’t really lived it as much as remembered it. He remembered a woman with two kids under five that wouldn’t shut the fuck up. He remembered plotting their deaths in vivid detail. He remembered almost killing his ear buds when he found them in an impossible knot, instead opting to deal with the cluster of cord below his face. He remembered how even with them at full blast, they didn’t fully drown out the demons and how he took great pleasure in the thought of aggressively throwing salt at them.

He also remembered digging out his sketchpad, drawing mindlessly and hoping that it would distract him enough to forget the fact that he was trapped in a giant can that was apparently Hell. He hadn’t really even paid attention to what he was drawing. It wasn’t until the girl sitting next to him, a pretty teenager who was so obvious she was flirting it was almost painful, had smiled at him and batted her fake lashes, pointing at the page and saying ‘she’s pretty.’

He hadn’t bothered to correct her, to tell her that those were the most beautiful eyes and most perfect lips and the softest hair and the most flawless skin and the most edible jaw line of the most gorgeous man he’d ever laid eyes on.

Jean had simply nodded his thanks, closing his book and shoving it back into his bag. He couldn’t help the way the frustration grew in him, the way he kept telling himself to stop thinking about him, stop thinking about the kiss or the way he touched his face or the way he had blushed when Jean had asked him on a date. To stop feeling, to forget him. But no matter what he did, it seemed that in his depths he just couldn’t let it go.

He also remembered the way he hungrily devoured a higher dose of Dramamine. Safe, sure, but it would knock him out for the rest of the trip and let him spend the majority of the next twenty-four hours sleeping.

“Jean-bo? How is school?”

Jean jolted, cringing at the name. His mom hadn’t stopped calling him that, ever since he was a kid. Really, he doubted she ever would. “Mum, I asked you not to call me that.” He sighed, head resting against the window, cold glass vibrating against his skin. “School is fine.”

“Keeping your grades up then? That boy is still tutoring you? You haven’t pushed him away like everyone else, have you?”

Jean cringed, refraining from looking at her. It’s not like he ever actively did anything to push people away, he was just honest and people didn’t like honesty much. This time, he thought, maybe it wasn’t his fault.

“Grades are fine mom. School is fine. I’m fine. Can we just go home and not talk about school while I actually get a break from it?” He wanted to feel bad for being short with her, his mom had always taken care of him. But he couldn’t, he just hurt, he just wanted to go home and go back to sleep.

He didn’t remember much of the rest of the trip, eyes watching the gray world pass as the clouds spewed more sleet down on the roads. He hadn’t even bothered to eat dinner or ask how his mom was – he’d make sure to do that later. Instead, he dropped his bag on the floor of his room, relishing the familiar scent before plopping onto his bed.

He didn’t bother stripping, reaching over to grab the edge of his blanket and rolling over, pulling it over him and turning himself into a burrito. He didn’t even have time to be enveloped by the stifling heat that came with hiding under a big ass comforter before he drifted off into sleep.

It felt like it hadn’t been more than a few seconds when his mom yelled up the stairs to him. He groaned, rolling over and feeling like there was elephant sitting on his chest. Or someone had put him in a fucking blender and set it on puree. He sighed, using his foot to push the curtains aside enough to let it a little light. It was dull and gray, murky, and darkening into night.

_She couldn’t just let me sleep?_

Digging into his pocket he pulled out his phone, sliding the screen. It was only 7:30 PM, not even an hour later. He stared angrily at his phone, as if that would change anything. Then he saw it, March 8th. It hadn’t been an hour – it had been twenty-four.

He couldn’t help smiling a little. His mom had always known when something was wrong. When to leave it, and when to push. When to just let it lie, let him sleep it off. Maybe he couldn’t just sleep this one off, but at least she had let him try.

He pushed to his feet, realizing how sticky and gross he felt after being on the plane with all those germ demons, and then sleeping in a few layers too many. He didn’t bother yelling down to his mom before stripping off his clothes and hopping into the shower – she’d hear the water turn on anyway.

The water was warm and clean and relaxing and part of him wanted to stay there forever. His stomach had other ideas, yelling at him that it was time to fucking eat and how dare he starve it for a whole day.

His shower was fast, just a quick wash over to get the invisible grime from his skin and hair. He dabbed over his skin and ruffled a towel through his hair before swiping it over the mirror. His eyes were a little puffy and red, leaving him to wonder if he had cried in his sleep. It wouldn’t be the first time, even if he tried to deny it.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he threw his towel into the bin, feeling himself getting frustrated. He just wanted to stop feeling this way. Stop feeling at all. It would never happen, and he knew it. He had tried, but no matter how hard he tried, how much he just _couldn’t_ care, he couldn’t castrate the feelings. The pain, the regret, the way it made him feel like a jackass.

“Oh, Jean-bo,” His mom smiled at him as he came down the steps, tugging a clean shirt over his head. “I wasn’t sure you’d come down.”

“Yeah, sorry, thanks for letting me sleep, Mum.”

“Well, I thought you might want to be up for dinner this time.” She smiled, maybe a little proud of herself, and pointed over at the table.

It didn’t look like anything exciting. A chicken bacon sandwich and where-do-you-even-find-potatoes-that-big steak fries with way too much seasoning – just the way he liked it. Jean’s eyes widened a bit and he could feel the way his mouth salivated just at the scent. It was his favorite, a restaurant that hadn’t quite made it far enough east to be near his school.

“Mum…” He smiled, turning back to her and pulling her into an almost stifling hug, his arms wrapping around her neck and bending down to rest his head against her shoulder. “Thanks, Mum.”

“Jean…? It’s just dinner, are you okay?”

He smiled, pulling back and shaking his head softly. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just good to be home. Uh, let’s eat.”

Jean could feel the way his mom watched him as he sat across from her, happily munching on the fries. She had the same eyes as him, and the same hair, even though hers was much longer. Everything else he had apparently taken after his father. He barely remembered him, but sometimes he could see the sadness in her eyes when she looked at him. She loved him, Jean knew that, but he knew how the hurt could creep up on you.

“So, you haven’t told me much. Big school like that, have you found yourself a girlfriend?” His mom smiled, almost but not quite innocent, as she worked on her food. Jean looked up at her, strategically taking a large bite of his sandwich so his only response was to shake his head. “Boyfriend?”

Jean softened and smiled internally, swallowing his food. His mother had found out pretty quickly about his sexuality, and though she didn’t fully understand at first, she had been nothing but supportive. Even to the point of sending him pictures of cute boys she ran into when she was out.

Even so, he couldn’t help the sadness at the thought. “Nah, I’ve been too busy with school.”

“Hm? Maybe someone you like?” She had always been able to read him, knew when he was avoiding the subject.

His eyes dropped to his plate, hands lowering as he debated answering her or not. He had found someone, someone he had romanticized without even meaning to, thought about being with and loving and staying with.

“Ah…I see…” She smiled, he was certain she was trying to be encouraging. But she knew the truth, at least enough of it to know that he had already decided it was done. “Why don’t you go on up? Eren was supposed to be getting in today right? You should check in on him, I’ll clean this up.”

Jean smiled, nodding. He had no idea how she manage to remember everything that he had mentioned, no matter how unimportant it seemed. “Thanks, Mum.”

Doing as he was told, he went back up to his room. _His_ room. It felt a little empty, after being cramped in that small dorm with Eren, and surprisingly frequent company. It was nice, though, to be back home, in a space that was all his own. He propped his pillows against the wall and settled back against them, smiling at the way he settled into his old ass dent in the mattress.

It didn’t take long for his laptop to boot up, skype loading automatically with start up. He had barely had enough time to open a browser when a window popped up on his screen and his speakers blared at him that he was receiving a call. At least he had long ago changed it from the annoying default tone to one of his anime openings—one that made him want to run a marathon and conquer the world and kill a man.

He hesitated to answer the call; he hated to admit it, but even with friends he got awkward with unexpected calls. Usually he’d just default back to being an arrogant asshole. Taking a deep breath, he moved his finger over the integrated mouse and clicked ‘answer.’

“BOUT FUCKING TIME YOU ANSWERED, HORSEFACE!” Eren grinned, voice loud and almost distorted as his face popped up on Jean’s screen. “Thought you were just being a prick and weren’t going to get on – just hide in your little cocoon like the twat you are.”

Jean grinned; he couldn’t help it, really. Eren was a jerk, and they fought – a lot – but that’s what made them such good friends. There was no holding back with them, Jean was an honest man and Eren had never known how to mask his feelings. Really, he couldn’t even try to deny that he was happy to see that stupid too-fucking-confident grin and those bright green eyes and mess of dark hair.

He had long ago stopped denying that he and Eren were friends, brothers really, and had admitted to himself that he was his best friend. Marco had held that spot for years, his best-and-I-don’t-know-what-the-fuck-we-are-is-this-healthy friend. But Eren? Eren took care of him without trying, intervened only when he had to, never felt the need to hide or apologize for Jean. Eren understood Jean in a way that he was pretty sure no one else could. For how different they were, they were vastly alike.

“Oh-ho! Sorry sluterella, did you miss me?” Jean grinned, moving his laptop to his knees so he didn’t have to look down at the screen. Which had nothing to do with the fact that it was a more flattering angle.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. Hey, so I looked up Trost and –”

“Oh? Did Mikasa show you how to read a map?”

“ _And_ ,” Eren lifted his hand into view, flipping Jean off as he continued talking, “Apparently it’s only a couple hours drive from Shiganshina.” Eren’s lips pulled back into a stupid grin, waiting for Jean to react.

“Fucking brilliant.”

Eren rolled his eyes, licking his lips. “So, you asstwat, I was thinking I’d make the drive to visit.”

Jean quirked an eyebrow, smirking at him. “Oh? You miss me that much? Or is your ass just lonely without your old man boyfriend.”

“Oh haha fuck you, you know I just miss you – gotta have someone to make fun of I mean just look at that face.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to lace your food with Viagra since you can’t seem to get it hard,” He grinned, always taking the time to poke fun at that ‘nightmare’ Eren had had, “Wouldn’t want to disappoint Levi.”

Eren’s face lit up red, even through the shitty quality of the skype call. “Sh-shut up! I’ll have you know that Levi is completely satisfied with me!” He averted his eyes, knowing it was something he was still insecure about, and this time it was Jean’s turn to blush. He hadn’t expected that. The call was silent for a few minutes before Eren spoke up again. “Mikasa wants to come visit Marco for a couple days anyway.  I figured it’d be like a family field trip.”

Jean shrugged, it’s not like he wouldn’t be happy to see Eren. “Eh, it’s cool. There’s not really anything to see around here, but if you want to come be bored out of your fucking mind here, it’s your prerogative.”

Eren grinned again, nodding. “Awesome! We’ll be there in a few days. And don’t worry, we’ll rent a hotel. You _do_ have those there, right?”

The retort died on Jean’s lips as he heard a familiar voice call out to Eren.

“Hey, dinner’s here.”

It was farther away from the mic than Eren, quieter, but he recognized it nonetheless. And then he saw the blond head pop around the doorway, leaning in to make sure he heard. Jean’s stomach sank, and he looked up at Eren with sad eyes.

Eren only looked at him knowingly, sadly. Jean took it as the recognition it was, clicking the red phone to end the call. He closed the laptop, setting it side on his night stand. Whatever good mood talking to Eren had given him, it was gone just like that. Just seeing him there brought everything he constantly tried to forget flooding back. He was looking forward to seeing his best friend, sure, and he was doing everything he could to ignore what he knew without asking. Armin would be with him.

* * *

Jean sighed as he leaned over the dark wood counter, laying his face against the cool surface. The entire bakery was pretty basic, hardwood floors, wood counters, clear display cases, chocolate colored walls. Breads and cookies lined the shelves behind him, a few decorative pieces either on display or in the window. His mom had even hung the braided bread that encircled the cookie girl on a broom that he had made in the window. He had gotten bored helping around the store, and it was the result. And yet, here he was again, watching the store for his mom.

“So boring!” He groaned to himself, wondering why he had to do this on his break. Or why his mom had an apron that fit him perfectly. _At least it looks cool_ , he mused. He couldn’t deny it had a sort of Edward Scissorhands feel to it.

The brunet jolted upright at the ding of the bell over the door, signaling customers. “Welcome to Ma—oh, it’s just you.” Jean slumped as he saw a familiar pair in the doorway.

“Glad to fucking see you, too.” Eren grinned, eyes wandering around the bakery. “Nice place. It’s…cute.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’m sure Mum would be pleased to hear that.”

“It’s very…warm.” Armin smiled at Jean, who only hummed his acknowledgement before turning his eyes away. He looked tired, lids a little puffy around his blue eyes, skin a little pale, and though Jean couldn’t be sure, he thought the blond had lost a little weight.

Eren smiled, nodding, trying to ignore that every time those two looked at each other there was an overwhelming sadness that suffocated anyone close enough to get pulled in. “Yeah, he’s right. It’s like home.”

“It _is_ home.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Upstairs is home.”

Eren looked at him incredulously, quirking an eyebrow. “You and your mom live above her work?”

Jean shrugged, nodding. “Yeah. I mean, we didn’t always. But after my dad left, we couldn’t afford the house on just Mum’s salary. So we moved into the space upstairs. It’s plenty for just us, really. We even had a dog for awhile.”

“Oh.” It was a lame response, but Eren wasn’t sure what to say. He knew Jean didn’t care for his dad, and he didn’t want to linger on anything that reminded him of it.

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’m gonna be stuck here for another few hours. Can’t really just leave the shop until Mum gets back.” Jean shrugged, digging out a small box of cookies and handing them over to Eren. “On the house.”

He looked at him curiously, taking the box and opening the flaps to look inside. He perked up at the sight of chocolate chip cookies, and wondered how Jean had figured they were his favorite. Coincidence, maybe. More likely was that he had asked Mikasa, or Armin when they were getting along.

“What are these for? Trying to seduce me with your sugary goodness?”

Jean snorted, shaking his head. “Shut up, dude. Think of them as an apology for not getting you a real present for Christmas.” He noticed the way Eren’s hands froze and his cheeks lit up, and he was 95.7% sure that his roommate had made use of the ball gag.

“Yeah, heh, thanks man. Well,” he closed the box, grinning as he moved toward the door, “We’ll see you later then? Armin, you coming?”

Armin turned back to him, waving a hand at him. “I’ll meet you at the car, I want to buy something.”

Eren nodded, leaving them alone and Jean wanted to chase him down and punch him for it. Yet, here he was, stuck in the place he grew up and finding it uncomfortable and knowing that just Armin being here would taint the bakery with memories that he’d never be able to fully forget.

“Can I get one of those?” Armin smiled at him, and Jean could feel his mind freezing.

He had been avoiding really looking at him, ignoring the way he loved Armin in his skinny jeans and the blue long-sleeved hooded shirt. It was a little different for the blond, who had spent most of the winter wearing grandpa sweaters or something more fashionable. But he liked it, just like he liked the way the blond had pulled his hair into a ponytail, the way he smiled up at him, and the way that he leaned on his forearms against the counter as Jean set the sweet in front of him.

“You know, Mom used to tell me about all sorts of sweets when I was younger. I remember her telling me about this one,” Long fingers pointed down at the braided loaf in front of him, and Jean thought they trembled, just the slightest. “She always called it Forgive Me bread.” He smiled sadly, blue eyes looking up from under his bangs. “She said that it was a symbol of bonds. That even though the bread may grow old and stale and flake apart, that the center will always bring the two pieces together. No matter how tough the travel, their paths will always cross again, and they’ll merge as they seek the other.”

The blond bit his lip, finger moving to point at the strawberry filling that had been carefully piped into the bread where the pieces connected. “And this? This is why. Because no matter how much the two want to pull apart, they can’t. Because they share a heart. It’s like...” He worried his lip, searching for the words and perking up as he thought of them. “Like the red string of fate!”

“Armin, what’s your point?” Jean swallowed hard, trying to ignore that he already knew the answer.

“O-oh, uh, sorry,” He blushed, knowing he always got carried away with his words. “She just… she said that this bread, if you give it to someone, it’ll make them forgive you.” He shook his head, handing over money for the bread. “Sorry, it’s just a silly story.” Armin shook his head, turning to push the door open.

“Hey, Armin!” Jean shouted to him, leaning over the counter at the blond who was halfway out the door. “You forgot your forgive me bread.”

The blond smiled, an unmistakably sad smile, and shook his head. “No. I didn’t.”

Armin didn’t wait for a response before he pushed out the door, walking toward Eren, who had parked out front. He hadn’t looked back, but Jean couldn’t miss the way his wiped his cheeks, or the way Eren wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug before he climbed into the car.

Jean swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run after him. He wanted to, fuck did he want to. But he had done that, he had chased him, he had been brave, he had been stupid. He had been the one to step up and take a chance and Armin had crushed him.

His hand shook as it hovered over the bread on the counter, the one Armin hadn’t forgotten. Jean had made it himself, that morning. It was always his favorite, and the blond wasn’t wrong; that story was one of the reasons he so enjoyed making it.

“God fucking dammit!” He growled, flour speckled fingers digging into the bread. He lifted it, ready to throw it. He wanted to, wanted to throw it across the room and step on it and trash it and forget it ever existed. He wanted to be angry, so angry, because angry was easy.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t throw it, he couldn’t trash it. He slammed it onto the counter, pretending it was even slightly satisfying, and tried to pretend his hand wasn’t trembling. His whole body was trembling.

“Why…fucking why, Armin…” His voice wavered and his throat tightened, and he felt his chest heat up and eyes burn. He fought the urge, fought the feeling, wanting so badly to be numb. To be okay.

With effort he let go of the bread, now a crushed pastry, the fruit filling squished out and pressed against the plastic wrapped around it. Jean took a deep breath, backing himself into the wall and letting himself slide down to sit on the floor. It was unprofessional, be he didn’t care. Not like he had had any customers that day, anyway.

He covered his mouth with his hands, breath hot and humid trapped against his skin. They still smelled vaguely of cinnamon and strawberries. Rubbing them harshly over his skin, he pressed over his forehead and back down to his mouth. He wanted so badly to just stop. Stop everything. Stop thinking, stop feeling, stop wanting, stop remembering.

_Stop loving._

His hands fell to his knees, head thumping back against the wall. He swallowed hard, finding it more and more difficult as he took deep breaths and tried not to drown within himself. Jean bit his lips hard, vaguely wondering how they had survived the stress he put on them, and stopped trying to deny what he had known all along.

“It’s never going to fucking stop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i swear things start to get happy next chapter okay. two chapters left!


	12. THIS IS THE LAST TIME, BABY MAKE UP YOUR MIND

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i broke 50k with this chapter and im freaking out okay. also only one more chapter. im really fucking excited.
> 
> [this is the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnugraD0wOQ&feature=kp) i wrote this chapter to if anyone cares

“Snow’s supposed to pick up tonight so let’s pretend that I told you to stay inside, so when you decide to turn yourselves into fucking douchesicles it’s not my fault.” Levi dismissed his class, eloquent as always. “Kirschtein, stay back. I need a word with you.”

Jean froze halfway through putting his book into his bag. He only stared for a moment in disbelief, not quite sure what he had done. Levi didn’t sound mad – well, it was hard to tell, he never really sounded _happy_. The brunet had wondered on more than one occasion if that was just his voice, or if maybe he was different around Eren. He sighed, pushing to his feet and putting the strap of his bag over his neck.

“What’d you do, horseface?” Eren smirked, pushing into him as he walked by.

“Maybe he’s just bored with you.” Jean grinned at the way Eren’s mouth worked and no words came out. “Dude, I’m just fucking with you.” He shrugged, not real sure himself. His grades were up, a bit surprising even to himself, really, and he hadn’t been in any fights. Hell, Eren was the only one he had really fought with and he just didn’t have the energy for that anymore. “No, man, I dunno what he wants.”

Eren’s expression shifted, something in his eyes turning serious. “Well, uh, just…just listen to what he says okay?”

“Wait wha—” Jean watched as Eren almost jogged out of the classroom, the last to leave and clearly knowing what this was about. “What the fuck…”

“Kirschtein.”

“Uh y-yeah, sorry, coming.” Jean sighed, taking the platform steps down and stopping in front of Levi, who was leaning back against his immaculately organized desk. Honestly, he didn’t know if he had ever seen a teacher with such a clean work space. Not that he found it surprising.

“So what’s going on with you and the blond.”

Jean froze, swallowing hard. That had been the last question he had expected. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Arlert.” Levi’s voice was stoic, arms cross over his chest as looked up at Jean with those steel blue eyes, as if he couldn’t care less about any of this.

“Yeah, I know who you meant. What about us? There’s nothing going on with us.” _Unfortunately._

“Yeah, why is that?” Levi’s shoulders looked tense; he was uncomfortable and had no idea how to do this.

Jean sighed, scratching the back of his undercut. “Eren put you up to this?”

“Yes.” Jean just blinked down at him, he hadn’t expected that. “No. The brat is just worried and it’s all I’ve heard about for a fucking month and since he won’t just find another dick to put in your ass, I somehow inadvertently volunteered to talk to you.”

“Uh huh. Well uh thanks but I’m fine.” Jean shifted, trying to subtly move toward the door.

Levi sighed, rubbing his fingers over his sharp brows. “It’s like when you have a shit.”

Jean looked at him incredulously, blinking. “What?”

“It’s like when you have a shit that just won’t come out. You know you need to shit but won’t because it will hurt, but it’s gotta come out sometime.”

“Did you just compare my lack of relationship with Armin to constipation?”

Levi’s words died on his lips, mouth snapping shut and pressing the pink flesh together as his eyes looked around the room for a better response. “Yeah.”

“Okay, well, uh thanks for that. I’m going to go talk to Hanji now…”

“Yeah—that’s probably a good idea.”

Jean said nothing as he took a few steps backward, slowly turning into the hall.

_How the hell did that guy even manage to get a boyfriend if that’s how he handles shit?_ He snickered at his own thoughts. _‘Shit.’_

It hadn’t taken long to get to Professor Zoe’s room, only a few doors down from Levi’s, though hers was much bigger, getting two doors and a vast majority of that side of the hallway. Granted, most of it wasn’t for the classroom and he was pretty sure that she used the labs for her personal experiments more than for teaching anyway. He shook his head, certain that if she was allowed to do what she wanted she’d eventually be responsible for the zombie apocalypse and putting them all into a giant quarantine cage.

“Je—an!”

Jean’s breath pushed from his body as the woman jumped at him, wrapping her arms around him and he really hoped whatever was in the flask in her hand didn’t get on him.

“What’d you need help with?” He eased her back, and she smiled at him as she set the flask down, pulling her goggles up onto her head.

“Ah, well, they’re thinking this storm cell might keep us stranded for a bit, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it back into the lab for a few days. Moblit has ‘strictly forbidden’ me from tunneling my way back so,” She shrugged, “Was hoping you’d help me winter-proof before it gets too bad out there.”

Jean was more than happy to help; it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He would have simply gone back to the dorm and immersed himself in his art or reading or a game, anything to bide his time until Eren came home with the dinner he promised to pick up. That wouldn’t be for a couple hours, so he had time to spare.

Hanji had busied herself with moving the cabinet full of petri dishes into a back storage room, one that would stay warm enough for the bacteria to grow even if main labs were cooled down by the weather – as long as the heating didn’t go out, they’d be safe and flourish in their dank little closet. Jean had offered to help her with it, but she brushed him off, grinning and saying no one was allowed to disturb her babies. He had shrugged it off and returned to putting the densest cardboard he could find over the windows, duct taping the edges and any breaks in the material. It was the best he could do to insulate the windows. The rest was just basics – make sure the gas was all turned off, make sure all the flasks were moved to the center of the room so they had less of a chance of being affected by the weather, leave the outer faucets on to a small trickle.

“Oh my god he gave you a shit talk?” Hanji couldn’t help but laugh as she sat with her legs crossed and feet under her bent knees. Carefully, she pushed up a piece of banana flavored ice from the popsicle.

“Yeah, it was awful,” Jean laughed, shaking his head and leaning against the table next to her, breaking a piece of blue popsicle into his mouth.

They sat in silence for a moment, finishing their popsicles and drinking the juices left in the bottom of the plastic flasks.

“He’s not totally wrong though, you know.” Jean didn’t respond to her, just turned and gave her the stank eye. She grinned, holding her hands up in surrender. “I know, I know. You already know.” Her smile softened and she ruffled his hair. “Just do what will make you happy, Jean. Starting with getting the hell out of my office because you don’t really want to get snowed in here with me do you?”

Jean chuckled and pushed her hand off of his head. “Oh fuck no I don’t – you’ll probably get bored and do experiments on me.” He grinned, hailing her goodbye as he pushed from her labs.

The trip back to his dorm was quick, even with Jack Frost deciding it was his job to go up his pants and molest him with icy fingers. He couldn’t believe just how much the temperatures had fallen in the past twenty-four hours, and knew it was only going to get worse. The sky was covered in heavy gray clouds, blanketing the world in a dull darkness. He wondered if they’d really get the snow they hadn’t gotten all winter, though; all he’d seen all day were the barely-heavy-enough-to-be flurries they were getting now.

He dropped his bag in his room and took the chance to go take a quick shower, relishing the thought of the hot water thawing his skin. That, and Eren had text him to tell him he was going to be half an hour late. It gave him enough time to take a shower, and not enough time to really do anything else. He was just pulling on a lavender v-neck when his roommate came back.

“Purple? Really?” Eren grinned at Jean as he pushed the door shut behind him.

“Wha—shut up!” Jean grinned at himself in the mirror as he combed down his hair with his fingers, pretending not to blush. “Cut looks good with my jaw line,” He smirked, holding his own chin, “Manly as hell.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Get in here and eat your food Mr. Manly-in-Purple.” Eren shook his head, grinning, and pretending not to know exactly where he had gotten that shirt.

He doled out their food and the two ate mostly in silence, nothing but the radio in the background to help drown out the sound of teeth gnashing through their food. Normally after they finished, they’d both have migrated throughout the house to occupy themselves with something else – movies, reading, drawing, playing video games. Something.

“So how long are you going to let this go on?” Eren broke the silence, noisily sucking his dr. pepper through a straw that apparently had a break in it.

Jean sighed heavily, pushing his hands back through his damp hair, then shaking his head to let them fall back over his forehead. “Not you, too.”

“Yes, me, too. It’s been a month, Jean. A fucking month.”

“What do you want me to say, Eren?” Jean sighed again, looking up at him from under his bangs. “That I still feel for him? Yeah, of course I do. Why do you think I’ve been avoiding him?” He lowered his eyes to his straw, fingers stirring the ice floating at the top of his mountain dew. “It hurts too much to be around him and pretend anymore.”

Green eyes blinked at him for a moment before his flat mate said anything. “Fucking man up and tell him.”

His words were blunt, neither aggressive nor accusing. They just were. Even so, Jean could feel the anger building up in him, his fingers tightening around his cup. “I _did_ man up. _I_ asked him out, if you recall. How the fuck do you think we ended up here!”

Eren sighed, gesturing his apologies. Jean was right. This time it was on Armin, and it wasn’t fair of him to put it all on Jean again. Even so, he knew his brother, and knew he had exhausted all of his apologies.

“Dude, you like Armin right?” Jean just turned his eyes up to Eren, not saying anything. “Like really like him?” _Maybe even love him?_ “Then go fucking talk to him.” Those green eyes looked at him pleadingly. “Don’t let him go like this, Jean. You’re not gonna meet someone else like him.”

Jean nodded slowly after a moment. He wasn’t sure what to say, or how he felt. He wanted to run away or throw up. Or both. Instead he looked at the clock, 7:00 PM. The library would be closing soon. Almost as if he was watching someone else move he pulled on his shoes and his coat. Eren had moved toward him, smiling at him in a way that Jean wasn’t sure what to think.

“What if he—”

“He won’t.” Eren smiled, awkwardly wrapping Jean’s big-ass blue scarf around his neck.

When Jean stepped out of the dorms he was surprised to find the world covered in darkness. It wasn’t even eight o’clock, he had expected a strip of pink to still line the horizon. Instead the heavy clouds had devoured everything. He pulled his coat tighter over his body, tugging his scarf up over his nose as he was certain his snot was freezing inside his nostrils. It had gotten even colder, and he wondered just how long it would be before it dropped into negative double-digits. The snow was coming down harder now, big fat flakes that clung to his lashes and hair; it had covered the ground in a thin layer of white that surely wouldn’t stay thin for much longer.

The brunet took a deep, steeling breath, ignoring the way the cold air stung his lungs, as he reached out and opened the first of two sets of library doors. He had half expected it to be locked up, really. Even the café was closing its doors early

“Hello?” He walked in slowly, eyes looking down the aisles as he passed them and only heard the sound of his own footsteps. “Armin?” It didn’t take long for Jean to realize the library was empty, but he had come all this way and he wasn’t about to leave now. It was unlocked and warm and bright, clearly someone had been here. He only hoped it was Armin and that he’d return quickly.

Not knowing what else to do with himself, he moved to his normal table. He smiled softly, thinking of all the time he had spent here drawing, reading, having the blond try his damndest to teach him calculus. Shrugging out of his coat, he set it and his scarf on the table before climbing into the corner chair. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned his head against the window and found its chill touch a pleasant contrast to the heat of the library. It didn’t take long before the waiting, the low after his anxiety triggered adrenaline rush, and the warmth pulled him into sleep.

_“Armin…Armin is that you?” The world was a haze, covered in darkness, the only source of any light was the familiar blond hair and peach skin that he liked to pretend he never thought about anymore._

_“Oh, Jean,” Armin’s voice was cold, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and there was something malicious about those cold blue eyes. “If only there was someone who loved you.”_

_Jean’s stomach flipped and his heart moved to his throat. He forgot how to breathe and his lungs burned with the acidic words that he was all too familiar with, words that were far too harsh to be coming from those perfect lips._

No…no no no.

_This wasn’t real. This wasn’t Armin. It couldn’t be. Sweet, dear, witty Armin who loved to read so much that he volunteered at the library. The blond with the beautiful eyes that lit up when he’d read to Jean, or when he’d put a story behind the pieces that the brunet would draw._

_Yet, there he was, ripping Jean’s heart from his chest. As if he had just used him. Manipulated him. For what? To pass the time? Entertainment?_

_“Armin I—” Jean’s voice fractured with tears, pain in his chest spreading tremors throughout his body. “But I—”_

Jean’s eyes snapped open, breath heavy in his chest. _A dream…_ His eyes closed again as he tried to steady his breathing, internally groaning as _Let It Go_ played through the speaker. That explained the dream, at least.

“Jean?” Armin’s voice was soft as he gently touched Jean’s shoulder.

Jean sat up abruptly, turning to see the blond and suddenly all his thoughts and bravery vanished from his being. His eyes were a little puffy and drawn; he hadn’t been sleeping well for some time now. Then again, he was certain he wasn’t the only one. Armin’s eyes were tired and he’d definitely lost weight, not a lot, just enough for Jean to notice his jaw was just a little sharper, wrists just a little smaller.

“I, uh, shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to! I’ll, um,” Jean stood, pulling on his coat and draping the scarf over his neck. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“Wait! It’s…it’s all right. You can stay,” Armin smiled softly, his cheeks flushing lightly. “It’s just…are you okay? You were having a nightmare, weren’t you?” He averted his eyes, nervously fingering the hem of his sleeves. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jean ran his fingers back through his hair, they lingered on his neck and he really wished he didn’t blush so easily. But here he was, standing in front of the face that had haunted his dreams for months – not always unpleasant dreams, either. All he wanted was to grab that perfect face and kiss those perfect lips and love him and hold him and make him his own.

“I…it’s—no, I’m fine, really. I’ll just go.” He squeezed between him and the table, trying his best not to brush against Armin and not knowing if he could stop himself from touching the blond more once he started. He bowed his head awkwardly. “Sorry for bothering you.”

Armin winced, the hurt clear in his eyes. His mouth worked before snapping shut on whatever he wanted to say. Jean bit his lip, watching as the blond visibly shifted to hide his feelings and he wanted to bash his own brains in for hurting him. Again. Seemed like he was doing that a lot.

“Sorry.” His voice was quiet and short as he turned away from Jean, heading away from the brunet to bury himself in his work and try to convince himself this had never happened. He was embarrassed and angry, berating himself for that little spark of hope that burned in him every time he saw Jean.

Jean nodded, moving around the bookshelves and out of sight of the other.

_I almost thought…no…who would really want to bother with me?_

 He felt sick, stopping to lean against the shelves and desperately inhaling the smell of old ink and paper in some pathetic attempt to calm himself. It wasn’t working. He wanted to cry and he wanted to punch something and he wanted to run back there and grab that stupid brilliant little shit by the shirt and throw him against a wall—

“No…” He clenched his fists until his knuckles were white with pain. That wasn’t what he wanted, not really. Well, he did, but it wasn’t just that. He wanted _Armin_. And sure as a bullet, that killed him. Doubts had flooded his mind from the first moment he had realized; what if the blond wasn’t as flexible as Eren said, what if he really thought Jean and his desires were disgusting? Or just wasn’t interested?

 Jean had never had a relationship before…who was he even kidding?

With slow, shuffling steps, he forced himself to move. His legs felt like they were filled with lead, and every movement was an effort. He managed to push through the library doors, icy air nipping at his cheeks and the flakes gathering on his hair and shoulders, leaving them coated in white.

Jean had no idea how long he had been in there, or how long he had been asleep. However, in the time he had been there the storm cell had moved in, the temperatures dropped and the clouds finally broke open. The snow had built up surprisingly fast, his feet sinking through to his knees.

_Jean!_

_Was that…? No._ Jean shook his head, deciding he must’ve been hearing things. The cold numbing his brain, maybe.

_Jean, wait! Jean, stop!_

No, he definitely wasn’t hearing things. He stopped in his tracks, legs already tired from trudging through the snow. The wind whipped around him, making it hard to even hear his own thoughts. Slowly, he turned toward the library, squinting his golden hawk eyes and trying to blink away the flakes that stuck to his lashes. His nose was red and runny and tears threatened to fall, though he was certain if he let them they’d just freeze to his cheeks.

"Armin…?" His heart clenched as he saw the blond trudging through the snow toward him. What’d he want now? "What do you—" His words caught in his throat, noting that Armin wasn’t wearing his winter gear, nothing but a thin sweater. "Fuck, are you mad!?" He trudged through the trenches he’d already carved out, undoing his coat as he moved toward Armin. _It’s negative degrees out here, and this dumb, adorable little shit is out without a coat on?_ “What are you doing out here, Armin?”

He wasted no time pulling off his coat and wrapping it around the blond’s shoulders; it was long, and on Armin’s shorter frame it dragged into the snow. He unwrapped the blue scarf from his neck, carefully wrapping it around the other’s, his fingers lingering on the yarn. He repeated his question, quieter this time, the hurt showing through in his voice. “What are you doing out here, Armin..?”

Armin glared up at him with hurt and anger in his eyes, trembling from the cold and not stopping Jean from wrapping him in his garb. It was warm and it smelled of Jean, and even if he wanted to the blond couldn’t deny the way it made his heart race. He swallowed hard, face red from the winter biting at his skin, his nose crinkled in a petulant pout. As Jean’s hand lingered near him, he reached up to wrap icy fingers around his wrist, holding onto him tightly with a determined look.

“I refuse to let you run away again!” Armin’s voice burned as he tried to push over the wind that seemed determine to drowned him out. He immediately regretted his words as he saw anger and disbelief flash through Jean’s eyes. Of course he was angry, it hadn’t been him who ran away, after all. _I was the coward._ “Jean, please, I care about you. We were friends,” His eyebrows scrunched together, he didn’t know if they were even that anymore. “Please, Jean…Pease talk to me,” His voice fell hushed. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Jean winced at that word,  _friend_. Of course, that’s why he was here. Friends. They were friends. Nothing more. Just friends. He had been mad to think that maybe, just maybe, some part of this beautiful, brilliant creature had chased after him for the same reason he had stormed out.

He let out a small, almost inaudible laugh; his smile pained him. He loosened his grip on the scarf, slowly lowering his free hand, the other still in the blond’s grasp, those long fingers digging into his wrist. Not once after he said ‘friends’ had he looked up into Armin’s eyes. He wasn’t sure he could hold it together if he did.

"Yeah, no worries, you’re not gonna lose me." He lifted his hand and set it on top of Armin’s head, snow melting under his palm. "I’ll stay your friend…" Dropping his hand to his side, he turned slowly, intent on walking away.

Armin’s eyes wide and mind frantic, he tried to scramble the words he longed to say together. His mouth worked, nothing but a miserable squeak pushing from his lips. His eyebrows furrowed together in anger at his stupidity and he hung his head, berating himself for not being able to latch onto the words he so desperately needed in this moment.

"Jean, please don’t go…" He whispered, barely audible as the wind carried his words away. "I didn’t mean…” Even as he tried to desperately get the words out, his mind numb and mouth failing him, his fingers loosened their grip on Jean. Something deep inside of him shattered, the pain audible to his frozen ears, his teeth chattering violently as he fought back tears. He’d been a fool to believe that they would be okay, that Jean would _want_  to talk to him. 

"I’m sorry..." his voice broke on the apology, a pathetic pair of words that he had said over and over and wished he had said more. Before Jean could say anything more, he quickly shrugged off the coat and let it fall to the snow, turning and running back to the safety and warmth of the library without another word. Only once he passed the doors did he realize he still had the scent of Jean swirling in his head and ripped the scarf off of his neck.

Jean winced as he watched him go. The warmth that lingered on his skin remained only for a moment before icy claws took even that away from him.

_He…he let go…_ Jean shook his head, mind not fully there as he reached down to pick up the coat. _Of course he had. Why wouldn’t he?_ Collapsing into the snow, jeans soaking up the moisture and freezing around his legs, he curled into himself and pulled the coat to his face. Armin’s scent lingered on it, faint under his own, but undeniably there.

"Fuck…" He buried his face, eyes burning as angry tears pushed their way past his lashes and into the warmth of the coat. 

_You just had to go get wrapped up again, didn’t you? Like someone like Armin would actually be in-like with you? He’s fucking beautiful and brilliant and you’re…you. Didn’t you learn a damn thing from what happened with Marco?_

Curling further into himself, he could feel his body shaking, unsure if it was from cold, anger, or the nauseating hurt that was manifesting into physical pain within his core. “Fucking idiot!”

"Jean!" Shock and icy wind stole his breath as he pushed through the doors into the cold once again, forcing himself off the wall he had slumped against, forcing himself into the frigid air and determined to give the brunet his scarf. Give it back, push out everything that was Jean. He’d cry about it later, hate himself for it later. He just wanted it over, wanted the pain to stop, the hope to die, his heart to turn to nothing more than a rock in his chest.

His legs wobbled and he collapsed at the brunet’s side. "Jean? Jean, look at me!” Wide, wild cobalt eyes searched Jean’s face, palms pressed into the snow and bitter cold soaking into his limbs. Armin’s teeth chattered and his body shivered, arms wrapping around himself and clinging to the scarf for its last dregs of warmth.

Jean had lifted his head when he heard his name, certain Jack Frost was fucking with him again. But no, his tear-blurry eyes locked onto the blond that stumbled toward him, collapsing next to him. Why was he here? His eyes caught on the scarf.

_Oh…_

With how angry he had been… Jean could only imagine he wanted to push every piece of him out of his life. 

"Are you hurt!?" Armin breathed out, voice harsh from the cold, tight with emotion.

_Yes…you hurt me. No…I hurt me…_  

The snow was coming down harder and it was almost impossible to see more than a few feet in front of him. Jean wanted to push him away. He wanted to hide inside himself and pretend that he didn’t have these feelings for him. He wanted to make it easy for Armin, be an ass and push him away; be the bad guy. 

Yet, his body moved on its own; maybe the cold was numbing his brain and his heart was the only part of his body in proper control anymore. His numb fingers reached out, grasping Armin’s forearm and pulling him hard; his other arm held his body as he moved to grab the back of his head. 

_What are you doing?! What the fuck are you doing you idiot!? Fuck, fuck, fuck!_  

It didn’t matter that his mind was screaming, in that one fluid movement he felt his lips press against the blond’s, hands holding him close to his own body. He felt more than heard Armin’s surprised squeak, unable to see more than a blur of blond and blue in front of him. His relief was almost palpable as he watched Armin’s eyelids flutter shut and those perfect pink lips pushed back against his, if only for a second.

“Jean—I—you—” Armin’s cold fingers touched his own lips, warm and tingling from the kiss. His body jolted in a hard shiver, heat seeping from his chest but his pants freezing around his legs and his fingers and nose numb and a vague, instinctual worry of risking frostbite gnawing at the back of his mind.

Jean let out a little chuckle, a genuine laugh, a soft smile across his face and spreading into his eyes. He brushed Armin’s hair from his face, still smiling. “Are you always this articulate?” He stood, finding himself stiff and numb from the cold, wondering just how low the temperature had fallen, and how long he had been out there. The cold and pain had slowed his world and he wasn’t sure anymore if it had been minutes or hours.

Grabbing his coat and scarf in one hand, he linked his fingers with Armin’s, almost dragging him toward the library. He let go of his hand long enough to force the door open, finding it beginning to freeze shut, before tugging him inside and fighting the wind to shut the door behind them. Reaching a hand out, he grabbed the blond’s arm before he could go through the second set of doors, gently pushing him against the wall, his hands on either side of his head.

"Armin… I like you…"  _Obviously._  “I…how do you…I mean…”  _I really shouldn’t be allowed to speak._  “Do you..?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  YOU THINK, ARMIN? DO YOU REALLY?
> 
> okay for real this time next chapter is legit happy and dicks


	13. I JUST WANNA HOLD YOU TILL WE FALL ASLEEP, I WANT LOVE, I WANT US

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  i finished it
> 
> Also thank you addy for showing me [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyn5jwJTYDo&feature=kp) because its like perfect for them and this yes thank you

“Do you?”

Armin tensed and fear flashed through his eyes, but Jean didn’t waver, simply waited with the slightest of smiles on his lips and in his eyes. Then those blue eyes locked onto his.

“Yes.” The word was more movement than voice, Armin’s arms wrapping around Jean’s neck, his long fingers and blunt nails scraping into the brunet’s undercut and sending pleasant tingles down his spine as those perfect lips mashed against his.

The kiss was sloppy, rushed, and needy. Not that Jean cared. All that mattered to him was that Armin was kissing him. He could taste him, smell him, touch him. And he had said yes. His stomach flipped as that one little word echoed in his ears. It was so simple, why had it been so hard before?

Jean’s head swam and it took every ounce of strength for him to pull his lips back from Armin’s. The blond, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so ready to stop. He held Jean’s neck tight, pulling him into another kiss, and another, and another.

“Armin—” Jean laughed lightly, gripping his forearm and loosening his grip enough that he could actually look at the other. “I have a question.”

Armin furrowed his brow and pulled his lower lip into his mouth, his cheeks flushed, nose red, and his eyes a little cloudy. “I’ve wanted to do this for months and now you want to ask questions?” He sighed with exasperation, which only made Jean want to laugh more.

_He’s pouting? Fuck, he’s cute._

“I—” Jean took a little breath, not _really_ wanting to ask this but needing to know. “Why did you run away before?”

Armin visible tensed under him, eyes instantly clear and suddenly the way he chewed his lip and crinkled his brow wasn’t as cute, just worried and maybe a little painful.

“I…I was afraid.” He kept looking away and then back into Jean’s eyes. The brunet was silent, face calm and simply waiting for him to explain further. “I was afraid you’d change your mind. Or that you only wanted me because I kind of look like a girl. Or that you’d decide you’d actually prefer a girl. Or that you’d see my body and think it wasn’t good enough or maybe you’d get bored and decide the whole bookworm thing wasn’t cute enough anymore.” His voice had turned from normal to a rambling mumble and even Armin had to admit that it sounded stupid aloud, not that it made his doubts any less relevant.

Jean was still, silent for a moment and blue eyes looked up at him with worry. And then he laughed. It was light and genuine and breathy and unexpected. He turned his eyes toward Armin, the gold glinting and his lips pulled back into a smile that the blond hadn’t seen much of for far too long.

“Idiot.”

Armin squeaked out a protest that Jean swallowed, pressing their lips together again and feeling the other relax and melt under his touch. Just kissing the blond was enough to leave them both in a daze, the culmination of everything in the past few months building up and crashing down over them leaving them breathless and needy.

Jean smiled into the kiss as he felt Armin’s lips part, tentatively slipping his tongue between them and shivering when he felt the other’s tongue roll against his own. He tasted amazing. _Felt_ amazing, bodies close enough to feel their warmth but not quite touching, silky hair in his fingers, perfect lips touching his, hands that he had spent way too much time thinking about now running over his neck.

Both males jumped, lips pulling apart and eyes jerking toward the door as thunder shook the glass around them. They paused, silent but for slightly heavy breathing, and then they saw it. Lightning, the sky flashing pink to blue.

“Thundersnow…?” Jean muttered, not fully believing it. They had said it would be bad, but not that bad.

“Maybe, we should move inside.” Armin tugged slightly at Jean’s arm. He nodded, slowly lowering his arm and turning to open the main door to the library and making sure to grab his coat and scarf, hanging them just inside the door.

“Jean…” Armin’s voice was low, back to Jean and his fingers playing nervously with the edge of one of the bookshelves. “What are we now?”

His voice was almost too quiet to hear, but it left Jean smiling softly. He moved behind him, gently turning him by the shoulders. “I thought that was obvious at his point. I mean,” He tried not to shift, he always found it so awkward and childish to actually ask. “I’d like to be your boyfriend,” Jean gently brought Armin’s fingers to his lips, pressing soft kisses to the still-chilled flesh. “If you’d have me.”

The way Armin’s face lit up made Jean’s stomach flip and made everything they had gone through over the past few months well worth it. That, and the fact that the blond was pulling him into another kiss, all tongue and teeth and hunger, his fingers clawing at the back of his neck. Jean hummed in surprise, smiling and closing his eyes into the kiss, hands going to his body and trapping his smaller frame between himself and the shelves.

He pulled back and grinned, still holding him close. “Is that a yes?”

Armin pulled at him almost desperately, pushing slightly onto his toes. “Yes shut up. Yes—” He cut himself off, capturing Jean’s lips with his own and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

_Fuck, I could do this forever._

Jean broke the kiss, moving to nip at his chin and kissing along his sharp jaw line before the blond could protest. He brushed back hair that he was certain was made of gold, moving his lips gently to his neck. His lips were soft, warm, and wet, his kisses small and tender. He wanted to ravage him, make him his own, but not one part of him could do anything but savor this moment. The way his skin felt against his lips, the way he could hear his heart pounding in his chest, the way his breath hitched when gently scraped his teeth over his pulse, closing his lips into a gentle kiss instead.

His fingers cautiously, slowly, slipped under the blond’s shirt, sliding under just enough to splay his fingers over his hipbone.

“I dreamed about you, you know.” Jean smiled at the way the other shivered at his words. He wasn’t quite sure why he was telling him something that should be embarrassing, maybe it was his way of reassuring him that he was enough. That he was beautiful. That he was perfection.

Gentle hands pressed against Jean’s chest, and he was worried he’d gone too far, but when he turned to look at Armin he was all blushing and smiles and trying not to look as flustered, or flattered, as he really was.

“Um…come with me…” Armin slipped from under his arm, looking back once before turning down the main aisle.

Jean did as told, following him through the familiar library, taking in the scents that he had subconsciously begun to link to the librarian. He followed him to the back, where the couches were that he had spent Halloween night on – something he tried to pretend totally didn’t happen. Even though, now, he smiled about it, that Armin had spend the night with him, just talking and watching movies and trying to help him forget about Marco and Mikasa. He wondered if even that far back the blond had had feelings for him.

“Can you shut the blinds?” Armin finally turned, stopped in the doorway to the very back, a room Jean had never been to. The brunet looked at him questioningly, and he flushed. “It will help keep the cold out.”

He nodded as the blond disappeared into the backroom. It didn’t take long to shut the blinds, though the small windows along the top of the wall had none and still let the occasional pink or blue flash of light through the glass. Jean turned as he heard near-silent footsteps padding across the room behind him. He smiled as he noted Armin bringing out armfuls of pillows and blankets and setting them on the couches, as well as leaving a plastic bag on the table.

The brunet noticed the other was barefoot, which explained how quiet he was, and followed suit. He toed off his shoes, stuffing his socks into them and carrying them over to slide under one of the couches.

“What’s all this?” Jean’s hand gently pressed against Armin’s lower back; it was almost surprisingly how casual, natural it was to him.

“Oh, uh, I just thought it would be more comfortable.” Armin blushed, leaving Jean smiling. The blond was so well-spoken, he couldn’t deny finding it adorable when he was flustered.

Jean nodded, even though the blond couldn’t see, and wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. “Guess with the storm we’re going to be here for the night at least.” It wasn’t a complaint, just a simple statement that ended with him nuzzling into the blond’s hair.

“I’m sure we can think of something to do~” Armin’s voice was lower as he turned in Jean’s arms, wasting no time in cupping his jaw and pulling him into another kiss.

It felt natural, as if they’d done it a million times before, even if there was a sort of hunger behind it. He pushed back, arms pulling Armin close, as if their bodies weren’t already pressed together. His heart was racing and he wondered if the other could feel it against his own body, or hear it above the storm. He didn’t have much time to think on it before he felt Armin turning them, their feet shuffling and moving back until the back of his legs hit the couch.

Armin smirked, hands sliding to Jean’s shoulders and gently easing him onto the couch. He swallowed hard as the blond straddled his lap, almost sitting on his hips. Long fingers ran over his chest, pulling gingerly at the collar of the shirt and he smiled up at him from under blond bangs.

“You bought the shirt.”

Jean blushed, averting his eyes and finding himself embarrassed that, yeah, he’d bought the shirt, and then some, just because the other had said he looked good in it. That, and the thought of what Armin could do to him with a tie was more than a little intriguing.

“Uh, yeah, well,” He looked up at him uncertainly, “You said it looked good?”

Armin chuckled, it was low and sensual and a sound Jean had never expected to hear from those perfect lips. “It does.” He smirked, dipping his head down and running his tongue over the collarbone peeking out from under the shirt.

Jean’s breath hitched, cheeks lighting up and head tilting instinctually to give the blond better access. Access that he quite willingly took advantage of, his lips opening to leave wet, messy, delicious kisses along his neck. Armin ran his tongue up his neck to his chin, the feeling of flesh against just the slightest of stubble making them both shiver.

It wasn’t until Armin’s teeth nibbled at his earlobe, drawing a moan from his lips, that he reacted. Strong hands cautiously pushed along his thighs to his hips, sliding under his shirt and up his back, relishing the feel of muscles under fingertips. The blond shivered under his touch, pulling back to look at him, the heady look in his eyes enough to drive Jean to attack.

Armin chewed his lip, watching as Jean licked his own in subconscious mimicry, his hands warm against his skin. He arched his back into the touch, his hands pressed against the other’s chest as those hawk eyes devoured him. Those hungry eyes never once left him as Armin slowly pulled his sweater over his head, tossing it to the side without caring. He couldn’t help feeling suddenly shy.

“Armin…” His fingers drifted over his chest, eyes fascinated by the body. He’d seen it before, sure, but not like this. “You’re beautiful.”

There was nothing hesitant or unsure about the way Jean looked at him, and it left Armin flustered, blushing and looking away.

“Armin?” Jean watched as blue eyes looked down at him with something he couldn’t quite peg but thought it might be uncertainty. His own body was screaming, but it didn’t matter. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” He tried to smile reassuringly, hoping his lust didn’t betray him.

The blond flinched with worry, attention jerking to Jean. Then he saw the look in his eyes, there was no doubt there, his fingers trembled with anticipation, he chewed on his lips every time his eyes slipped to Armin’s and the blond was certain he didn’t even realized he was doing it.

He smiled and relaxed against the touch, fingers wrapping around Jean’s wrist as he leaned in. “I know.” He pressed their lips together and Jean couldn’t help but inhale harshly, taking in their mingling scents and the way Armin’s breath was hot against his, the way he tasted, and everything else about this moment.

Slowly, the blond guided his hand to the button of his jeans. The brunet’s eyes snapped open, barely breaking the kiss, only to see Armin nod before he was pulled into another kiss. His fingers trembled and he cursed himself with frustration as he fumbled, eventually managing to undo the simple button and zipper.

Before he could do anything more, Armin was pulling him up, slipping long fingers under the hem of his shirt and breaking the kiss just enough to pull Jean’s shirt off. Hands pressed against his shoulders and he didn’t miss the moment that Armin took to admire his body, hands exploring his chest and shoulders before pressing their lips back together.

Jean shivered under his touch, those fingers never quite stopped moving. They traced his collarbone and his deltoids, moving over his chest and down his abs, and had he been more lucid he would have been insecure about what the bent position did to the shape of his body. All he could care about right now was that Armin was in his lap kissing him, and he was _touching_ him. Everywhere.

Strong hands tightened on Armin’s hips when he felt his long fingers deftly undoing his own pants. They slid against his hips, just under the hem of his pants and shifted forward. Breaking the kiss, blue eyes stared at him, watching him carefully. Then Armin moved, grinding forward in a way that rubbed their clothed erections together.

The brunet jolted, a strangled moan pushing from his lips. Armin was panting, face flushed and lips kiss-swollen. His lids were heavy and his pupils blown and everything about him just made Jean want to touch him more. His hands slid to Armin’s ass, pulling his hips forward and lifting his own to grind against him again, pushing a whimper-moan from him that went straight to Jean’s cock.

He repeated the movement, squeezing his ass a bit harder and biting back his own moan to watch the blond. Armin hung his head, pressing against Jean’s shoulder. His body trembled and he was panting, fingers digging into Jean’s shoulders as he rolled his own hips to push against him, feeling his chest rumble with a stifled moan under him.

Armin’s fingers trailed down to Jean’s hips again, tracing the bone, eyes watching the way their bulges pushed together. He slipped a finger under the band of the other’s boxer-briefs, snapping the elastic lightly. “Off.”

Jean froze, not sure he had heard him right and the word leaving him warring with stripping as fast as humanly possible and pulling back to make sure he had heard right because as much as he wanted this he wasn’t sure he was fully prepared either.

“What?”

Armin smirked, lids heavy, and ran a finger under his underwear again, running along the band. “Take them off.” He gently pressed a finger against Jean’s slit for emphasis, finding it slick with precum.

Jean watched as Armin slid backward off of him, stepping to the side so he could stand up and take off his snow-dampened pants that clung uncomfortably to his skin. He moved out of the way, slightly embarrassed and turning his back to the blond as he slid his pants down. He looked over his shoulder, noting the other doing the same.

Taking a steeling breath, he pulled off his briefs and turned back toward Armin. He hadn’t even realized he still had his underwear, instinctually holding them in front of himself. He shivered as the blond looked up at him, that ungodly chuckle pushing from his lips again. Long fingers slid over his body, eyes taking in every inch of him.

Armin’s hands drifted to Jean’s, tugging the cloth free and dropping it to the ground, even though he had yet to remove his own underwear. Gently, he eased him down onto the couch again. The way he looked down at Jean left his stomach in knots, his lungs tight, and his cock twitching. He looked like a wolf, hungry for his prey.

_And I’ll gladly let you devour me._

“You look amazing, Jean.” Long fingers pushed back through his hair, smirking down at him. Moving between the brunet’s thighs, Armin _slowly_ pushed his underwear past his hips and to the floor, stepping out of them and standing almost on display.

Jean shifted to the edge of the lounge, hands sliding slowly up over Armin’s thighs. He could feel the shuddering breath the blond took as his hands reached his hips, his golden eyes exploring his body and his tongue running along his lips without even realizing it. Taking a slow breath, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to peach hips, tilting his head to press his lips to the bones.

He looked up when Armin didn’t move, the look in those blond eyes as they watched him made his cock twitch. Running his tongue down his ‘v’, Jean licked his lips before leaning in to press the flat of his tongue over the head of Armin’s cock.

“Jean~” Armin gasped, his hips jolting and the sound encouraging Jean to continue.

Hand on the blond’s hip, he slowly wrapped his lips around the head of Armin’s impressive cock, taking what he could into his mouth, fingers wrapping around the base of the shaft. Any thoughts in Jean’s mind were gone, drowned in the bitter taste of Armin, the way his skin smelled, the warm flesh against his lips, the way his cock filled his mouth, the way his hips trembled every time Jean moved, the way the blond was panting and little moans pushed from his lips with each pass.

“Shit—fuck, Jean~”

Armin didn’t swear often, at least not compared to Jean, and the fact that he was making him feel good enough that his mind no longer censored itself left the brunet aching with pleasure in the same way that the blond moaning his name did.

“Jean, wait—” Long fingers slipped into his hair, yanking him off his cock with a _pop_ , lips glossy with saliva and precum. Blue eyes stared down at him, hazy and hungry, his chest flushed and his breath short.  “That’s not what I want.”

Fear jolted through the brunet, wondering if he did something wrong. Then Armin pushed him back, slowly moving to straddle his hips again. Their cocks brushed together as he shifted, forcing a sharp gasp from both their lips, turning to a heady, needy grin before their lips mashed together.

There was no more hesitation, tongues touching and lips gnashing and hands touching and squeezing and clawing everything they could manage. It was almost desperate, the way their bodies sought contact from the other. And they were more than willing to oblige.

 Jean’s hands kneaded the supple skin of Armin’s ass, fingers unknowingly spreading his cheeks in a way that made him moan needily against the brunet’s lips. The blond’s hands slipped down to Jean’s hips, digging and clawing into them, gripping them and desperately pushing his hips forward, pushing their cocks against one another, seeking more friction than he could find but enough that left Jean moaning.

“Fuck, Armin,” His voice was shaky, desperate, as he squeezed the blond’s ass hard enough that there’d be finger-bruises in the morning. “Fuck, wait.”

Armin froze, looking up at him through half closed eyes, bangs starting to stick to his forehead. “Wh-what?” He sounded frustrated, not afraid, and Jean would find himself savoring that realization later.

“Just—here—” Jean wrapped his arms around his body, lifting him and turning them both.

He laid Armin on his back, head against the pile of pillows, legs still wrapped around him. He paused a moment to look at him, thighs touching his, cock pink and aching for him, chest heaving, skin sticky with sweat, muscles in his torso twitching as his body desperately ached for more, face flushed and lips red, eyes cloudy, and fingers gripping the pillow behind his head to keep from pulling Jean back down onto him.

Jean wanted to give in, fuck, did he want to give in. But he found himself enthralled with the body below him. This perfect, beautiful, brilliant creature that he had fallen so hard for. He smiled softly, pressing his lips against the soft, sensitive flesh of Armin’s inner thigh, his fingers drifting along his hips.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He smiled softly at him, wondering if the blond could see just how crazy he was about him.

In the next moment it didn’t matter. Armin reached up to grip Jean’s shoulders and pulled him into another kiss, arms wrapping tight around his neck. He melted into the kiss, no longer holding back to relish anything, just wanting to feel him, hear him moan.

Shifting forward, he pulled Armin’s hips against his, pressing their bodies close and rocking his hips. Their cocks pressed together, trapped between their bodies, precum and sweat and saliva making it slick and sloppy and feel so-fucking-wonderful-it-almost-hurt.

“Jean~ fuck, Jean, it’s not enough!” Armin’s voice was almost a whine, so desperate and close, and Jean vaguely wondered if he would be this vocal if they weren’t so alone. He’d have to find out later.

Pushing himself up just enough to slide his hand between them, he wrapped his fingers around both their cocks. Every touch left them shivering – it was new and hot and different and fuck was it good. Without holding back, he fervently stroked them, fingers sliding over the heads and pressing the slits together with every pass. It was difficult to keep a rhythm with the way Armin was clawing into his back and pulling his hips down with his legs, moans pushing from his lips the only thing he could hear beside the sound of their cocks schlorping together.

“Jean, shit, Jean don’t stop, fuck please don’t stop—” Armin dug blunt nails into his back, and Jean was certain he’d broken the skin. The blond’s hips pushed forward hard, desperately fucking Jean’s hand, his hands moved to grip the pillow behind him, voice coming out in nothing but obscenities and unintelligible moans that sounded vaguely like Jean’s name.

“Fuck, Armin, you’re amazing~”

He didn’t slow, stroking them together, pushing Armin through his orgasm and watching with fascination at the way the blond’s larger cock pulsed against his, pushing cum into his palm. It was hot and slick and wet and felt better than anything he had ever imagined against his cock. That and the sounds the blond was making was all it took to push him over the edge.

Armin pulled him into a hard kiss, desperately pushing them together. Jean moaned hard into his mouth, hips trembling and hand slowing as he stroked his twitching cock through his own orgasm, his hot cum spilling out onto his hand and the blond’s sweaty, taut stomach.

Time seemed to slow as they came down, bodies relishing the release and mouths no longer hungrily trying to eat each other. Instead, their lips moved slowly, Armin’s fingers cupping Jean’s neck and drifting over his undercut. The brunet pulled back enough to look into those blue eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or regret. Finding none, he smiled and gently kissed him again, lips moving slow and languid before pulling back once more.

“Uhm,” Jean blushed as he looked at the mess he had made of the blond. “Sorry—uh wait here! I’ll get something to clean it up.”

Jean jumped up, forgetting he was naked and trying to pretend his legs weren’t shaky. He looked around a moment before realizing he had no idea where to get something _to_ clean him up with. He turned back to the blond for help, who only laughed lightly and pointed toward the backroom.

It didn’t take long for him to return with a hand towel, damp with warm water. He had cleaned himself already, and was surprisingly tender wiping his mess off Armin’s stomach. He flushed when he moved to clean his cock, half flaccid and still slick with their fluids. The blond snickered, taking the cloth and cleaning himself.

The brunet couldn’t help but feel awkward as they pulled their clothes back on; except their pants, which were laid out to dry. He shifted his weight between his feet, looking everywhere but the blond and the couch. Armin only smiled, moving to slide his arms around Jean’s waist, pushing their bodies together. He lifted onto his toes and kissed him softly. He was still tense, awkward with not really knowing what people did at this point.

“Do you regret it?” Armin’s voice was quiet, and he only thought he needed to ask because Jean seemed so tense.

Gold eyes snapped to his, Jean’s expression suddenly serious. “No!” He hadn’t meant to yell, and it only resulted in a shit-eating grin from Armin. “I, uh, no…” His voice was softer, gentle even. Jean cupped his neck, leaning in to kiss him again. “Not at all.”

Armin snickered, shaking his head. “Well good, because you’re going to be trapped here with me for the next at least twelve hours and that might be a little awkward.”

Jean grinned, leaning in to kiss him again. “Just a little.”

“Shut up.” Armin pressed into the kiss again, hugging him tightly to his body and wanting to never stop touching him. They lingered in that kiss, only breaking when the storm rumbled and the room flashed pink.

The blond pulled back, tugging at his shirt and leading him onto the other couch. He dug out some snacks from the bag that he had bought with full intention of hiding away in the library for a few days. He just hadn’t expected to have company. Armin slipped away to the back only for a moment before returning with a bottle of mountain dew, his cheeks flushed. He had made sure to always have one on hand since he realized it was Jean’s favorite, not that he’d ever admit it. And Jean didn’t ask.

For the most part, they didn’t say anything. They simply settled onto the lounge, Jean lying back against the arm and Armin between his legs, resting against his chest. It seemed so natural and perfect, the way they fit so comfortably together. They simply relaxed, enjoying the sound of the storm and each other being _there_. Armin had pressed a few buttons until the projector and speakers shifted over to movies, the two gladly watching ‘kid’s’ movies and having a bit too much fun singing every song.

Hours passed, more than a few movies ending, and the storm had yet to slow. They were snowed in, for certain, and he wasn’t sure how long they’d be trapped. Maybe days. But Jean couldn’t give a single fuck. He was happy. Undeniably, irrefutably happy.

Armin had fallen asleep, nuzzled into his chest and arms wrapped around his body. Jean couldn’t do anything but smile at him, stretching to drape a blanket over the two of them. He wrapped his arms around the smaller frame, wanting to hold him forever.

Armin was here, in his arms, asleep, and he was his. He wasn’t just being affectionate. He wasn’t just being how he was with Eren. He was there for him, and he wanted him. No one else, just him.

The blond shifted, groaning a little and relaxing with a smile against him. Jean could almost laugh with how happy it made him. He nuzzled into his hair, kissing his head and closing his eyes, content just to hold him.

_Tonight I made a secret oath, to keep chasing after you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  its over...its done...i finished it
> 
> ............  
>   
> there will be asides


End file.
